passing-through-an-ex-fundamentalists-pursuit-of-personal-spirituality

Passing Through: An Ex-Fundamentalist’s Pursuit of Personal Spirituality Craig A. Hart Copyright 2011 by Craig A. Hart Smashwords Edition Author’s Note In my references to God, I consistently use the masculine pronouns of “he,” “him,” and “his.”

This is not due to my belief that God is male nor is it evidence of any chauvinistic tendencies on my part. The fact of the matter is that God is entirely asexual, yet still must be referred to in some way if one is to have a conversation about him. I considered using the feminine forms of “she,” “her,” and “hers,” but there again we have the same problem. I even began writing the book using the terms “it” and “its.” This soon became not only textually confusing, but slightly comical. The focus of the book is not on the sexual properties of God and I soon found the alternate designations to be unwieldy. Worried that unconventional terms would distract readers from the points I was trying to make, I finally decided to take the traditional path and risk the ire of a few purists. I apologize if this becomes an issue for you.

Part One In the Beginning…

Chapter One Back to My Roots The day started out sunny, but as the clock ticked toward 11:30 am the clouds rolled in and obscured much of the sky. Along the sides of the small red-brick church, large vertical windows, although boasting frosted panes, telegraphed the change as shadows cast by the scudding clouds moved past like phantoms on the glass.

Inside the building a group of approximately thirty people sat on padded pews and watched as I walked to the front and stood before the altar. My dad, the church pastor, performed the ceremony that would induct me into church membership. It wasn’t a long ceremony, nor did it include any exotic rituals. A confirmation of core beliefs, a prayer, a presentation to the congregation of their newest member, and all was done.

There were some tears in the audience, tears of joy, and the sight gave me a little comfort, confirmation that my decision had been the right one. After all, what could be wrong with making people happy? Certainly the fact they believed in this so strongly that the acceptance of these same beliefs by another would bring tears was indication they knew something.

Perhaps the mere existence of doubts and concerns within my mind should have alerted me that something was wrong. But as a teenager whose desire was to fit in with his own corner of the world, they were only nuisances—certainly nothing to cause me to change my mind. After all, this was the way things were. You grew up in the Church, you adhered to the doctrine, and eventually you became a member. It didn’t occur to me that something else might be possible, that the teachings of my world might be founded on error. Any doubts or questions were most likely manifestations of Satan attempting to turn me away from the path of righteousness. As I was now obviously thumbing my nose at him, he would be particularly angry and determined.

Considering this, it was no wonder I was feeling so conflicted. With some effort, I pushed the evil thoughts away to the outskirts of my consciousness.

I sat down in my pew feeling little changed, except for an increased feeling of responsibility. I had pledged to uphold all rules of the church, to be a faithful member, and to bring others to the faith—a tough challenge for a shy, backward teenager with questions of his own lurking in the back of his mind.

After the service ended, congratulations from other members pushed my doubts further aside and I went home fairly happy. I would soon leave for the denominational college, Bible Missionary Institute, in Rock Island, Illinois, where the constant influx of church teaching and guidance would hopefully answer any questions I had and allow me to logically answer the difficulties associated with my belief system. *

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I was never an overly rebellious child, at least not on the outside. My interests were such that I stayed out of trouble most of the time, preferring to stay in my room and read, listen to classical or Christian music (including the highly questionable Southern Gospel songs), and simply spend time alone. My propensity toward solitude was partly a product of personality and partly due to the fact that there weren’t many kids around to befriend. Besides one or two kids in the church that I saw a couple of times a week at services, my world was almost exclusively confined to my home and family. These kids all lived too far away to do any real “hanging out” and as a result I spent most of my time by myself. Making friends with neighborhood kids, while not forbidden, was to be treated with great caution. After all, those who didn’t believe as we did could easily become major stumbling blocks to following the true way of salvation. The Church taught that influence from worldly sources could do only harm and therefore it was better not to make close friends with those outside the Church.

I was homeschooled for many of the early grades and then went to a tiny private school that was started in the basement of the church for children of members. Unfortunately, the local church was so small that there were only two or three kids (depending on the year and mood of the congregation) close to my age. In short, in addition to my temperament, there were not that many bad influences around to lead me astray. Any thoughts of discontent and disbelief I began to have were my own.

In late January 1981, my family moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan where my dad had accepted a pastorate at the Bible Missionary Church on Leonard Street on the northwest side of town. We were moving from Baytown, Texas, a journey of over 1,200 miles. Being only a few weeks old, I obviously remember nothing about the move, but am told I travelled while wrapped in a Christmas stocking. The family made the trip listening to Ronald Reagan’s first inaugural address and, once crossing the Michigan border, ran into snow showers. For a family of Southerners, it was a fitting introduction to the Great Lakes state.

I don’t remember exactly when I began realizing that everyone wasn’t like us or, more appropriately, that we weren’t like anyone else. It was probably during a trip to the grocery store or some other errand that I started asking why everyone else looked so different. While my mom always wore dresses, had long hair that was fixed into a bun on the top of her head, and never wore jewelry or makeup, all the other women I saw wore pants, had their hair cut and styled, and couldn’t seem to have enough of either jewelry or makeup. It was very confusing, although the mystery was solved quickly through the teachings of the Bible Missionary Church. It was then that I began to become keenly aware of the rules of the Church, although it didn’t strike me as particularly dominating or restrictive. It was just the way things were.

The Bible Missionary Church is an inter-national religious organization dedicated to spreading their brand of salvation around the world through missions and considers itself a part of the nebulous Conservative Holiness Movement. The Conservative Holiness Movement is a network of faiths that, at its most basic level, believes that man is inherently evil, but can have this evil nature, often referred to as the “carnal nature,” removed through faith by the power of the Holy Spirit. “Conservative Holiness Movement” is a broad, general term. It does not necessarily describe individual denominations and cannot be specifically defined. However, the majority of these churches are splinter groups that have broken away from earlier, larger groups over some difference in theology or standard of living. The earliest roots can be traced back to John Wesley and Methodism. Later groups, such as the Bible Missionary Church, split from the Church of the Nazarene.

Although the specific beliefs of different Conservative Holiness Movement denominations vary, their sense of righteousness is constant. Because they go to such lengths to separate themselves from other churches and outside influences, broadly referred to as “the world,” they see themselves as set apart, a holy faction awaiting the return of Christ. This invariably results in a

feeling of superiority, an attitude of being the chosen people and the only ones willing to undergo such hardship.

The Bible Missionary Church split away from the Church of the Nazarene once the mother church began adopting too many worldly standards, including allowing televisions in the home.

It was formed in 1955 after a lengthy revival in Nampa, Idaho and founded with about 126 members. (Bible Missionary Union 2005 Manual) It is marked by perpetuating extremely high standards of appearance and living. The Church was in control of how we dressed, what music we listened to, how we spoke, our grooming techniques, and what literature we read. Television was banned first, the Internet some years later. Movies and non-religious music (except classical) were shown the door. Short sleeves were disallowed, as were beards and long hair on men.

Women couldn’t cut their hair and had to wear dresses at all times that reached below the knees.

They couldn’t use make-up or wear jewelry, including wedding rings. There was no working or frivolous activity on Sunday (including travelling or eating out), no playing card games, no drinking, no smoking, no cursing (including such words as, “gosh,” “darn,” and “geez”), no public swimming, no “mixed” swimming, no amusement parks, and no video games.

These were some of the rules set in stone. There were others unwritten, the breakage of which would earn you sour looks and gossip among the ranks. Pastors who didn’t toe the line were in danger of losing their churches, having preaching engagements cancelled and not being hired for others. You didn’t want to get a reputation for bucking the establishment, lest you get blacklisted.

Other unwritten forbidden fruits, perpetuated by the ultra-legalistic church faction, included: faded jeans, hair bows, open-toed shoes, Louis L’Amour westerns, Southern Gospel music, brightly colored neckties, flashy suits, expensive vehicles, secular education, and dining out at restaurants that served alcohol. Church wasn’t simply attended on Wednesday night and twice on Sunday, it was lived every day, all day. Everything you did had to first go through the Church filter. While laying plans for a vacation, you had to design your trip so as not to travel on Sunday, and preferably be back at your home church that day. If you wanted to play a certain board game, you had to make sure there weren’t too many worldly elements in it. If you wanted to go somewhere, buy a piece of clothing, read a book, or listen to a song, it all had to go through the filter: “What would the Church think of this?”

Even with all of these standards, rules, and restrictions, it didn’t occur to me for some time that we were “different.” I assumed it was the rest of the world that was different. We were the ones living normally and everyone else had changed. It gradually began dawning on me, however, that this could not be the case. After all, there were obviously many more people not living this way than were. I began noticing that we could go out on an extended shopping trip and not see one other person who looked like we did. It was distressing to a young child and I began keeping my eyes peeled whenever we went out, looking for someone else who held the high godly standards that we did. Occasionally, I would see a woman wearing a dress and sporting long hair.

I remember my young heart leaping with joy, until I looked closer and noticed she was wearing a necklace or earrings.

“No,” I would mutter, bitterly disappointed. “She can’t be a Christian if she’s wearing jewelry.”

I loved it when Christmas rolled around, besides the obvious reason of gifts. In the 1980s, most of the country was still pretty forgiving of Christmas and not nearly as many people were offended by Christmas carols, nativity scenes, or other traditional Christmas observances. As we drove in the car, my dad would scroll down the radio dial and seemingly every station had Christmas music playing. Not just any Christmas music, either, but Christian Christmas music, like “Away in a Manger” and “The First Noel.” I remember the feeling of excitement as I leaned forward from the backseat one snowy December day and told my parents, “I just love Christmas, because everyone’s a Christian then!” They didn’t answer me, I suspect because they didn’t have the heart to tell me that it actually meant no such thing.

The older I got, the more I hated being different, a completely normal occurrence as one begins to grow up and become more self-aware, but even more so when it is painfully obvious that you do not belong and that people can tell you are different from a mile away. I started dreading going out in public with my mom or sister, since they were so different in appearance than the others in the outside world. I began adopting various strategies, such as standing behind them so no one could see me or walking a few paces back in the hopes that everyone would think I was with someone else or on my own. I always felt extremely guilty about this behavior, partly because I thought it was probably wrong to be ashamed of my family and partly because I knew the Bible taught that if one is ashamed of Christ, he would be ashamed of them at the Judgment.

By avoiding my family, I was ashamed of the stand they were taking for Christ and I wondered if God would send me to hell for acting this way. To be on the safe side, I began incorporating this into my prayers by assuring Jesus that I wasn’t ashamed of him, although I never came up with a good excuse to explain my behavior and was pretty sure Jesus wasn’t falling for it.

These experiences and others like them did not in themselves cause me to doubt any Church teachings, but it did make me wish there weren’t so many of them. It just seemed to make life so much more difficult and confusing. I’ve always hated jumping through the figurative hoops of technicality and it began to seem like that’s all I ever did. A computer game I bought featuring WWII submarines had to be returned, because when looking through the periscope it resembled a video game. An air combat program had to be operated via the keyboard, as a joystick was also too similar to a worldly gaming system.

At the same time as these frustrations were beginning to build up inside, I was becoming increasingly aware of the spiritual stakes and my inability to attain salvation on my own. As a boy approaching puberty, keeping my mind “wholesome before the Lord” was virtually impossible, even without the evil influence of movies and TV. I read my Bible every day and prayed every night, running through an ever-expanding list of prayer requests: bring my unsaved

family members to Christ, help me to live as Jesus would have me live, and help our local church and the missionaries. Even as I prayed, though, it was fairly obvious that I was praying less out of a burden for these pressing needs and more because I knew I should be praying. Perhaps by seeking the burden, it would someday show up. That is, in fact, a teaching of the Church, that you should ask God to give you a burden to bear, so you can do your part in his kingdom by carrying it.

“Bearing a burden” could be anything from a person to a cause. Many people practiced “spiritual adoption,” which meant they would choose an unsaved person and hold them up before the Lord in prayer and supplication until the lost was moved upon by the Spirit and received Christ. I only keenly remember carrying one burden, one that lasted about two days. I had just listened to Hal Holbrook’s recording of “Mark Twain Tonight,” a play in which he impersonates Twain through a collection of writings and lectures. It was a brilliant performance and, Twain being a personal hero of mine, I found it fascinating. It brought the great author to life for me. Unfortunately, the performance also included a few off-color jokes and references, including some sarcastic remarks about God and the Bible. These were shocking to me, but unwilling to resign Twain to an eternity in hell, I took to my knees and prayed passionately that God would have mercy on the great man. Surely he had some redeeming qualities. How could someone as intelligent and hilarious as Twain be writhing in fiery agony? It just didn’t seem right. It was at this point that I would have gladly accepted the idea of Purgatory (universally dismissed by Holiness churches) if it meant I could shorten Mark Twain’s time there through earnest prayer. I am convinced that, given the heavy burden I received for the author, he was safely in heaven before the night was out.

I carried this burden for Twain throughout the night and into the next day, when it gradually began to wear off. In fact, the greatest burden I ever bore was for myself. I struggled daily with how to accomplish the will of God and remain true to his Word. The biblical teaching of “Pray without ceasing” (I Thessalonians 5:17) struck me hard, even though I knew through sermons that it was speaking figuratively and meant that we should constantly have the spirit of prayer, not that we should walk around praying 24/7. However, given the fact that I was unable to keep my mind pure and holy, praying without ceasing became the only real option. I therefore began walking around praying constantly in my head, mostly for forgiveness. It was a never-ending litany of apologies to God for anything I could think of that might be construed as a sin. It was one of the most miserable times of my life and this conscientious bent to my personality spilled over into other areas.

Living in a church world so dominated by a dedication to the Church and standards made life very difficult for the overly sensitive individual. In school I realized that if I turned in some reading without having read every word, it could be lying to say I had read the assigned chapter.

So I began rereading paragraphs and pages to make sure I didn’t miss a syllable. If I yawned while saying my prayers at night, I would assure God that I wasn’t yawning because I was bored,

but simply because I was tired. All these things came from a tortured young mind afraid of hell and unable to attain some level of spirituality I couldn’t understand.

Chapter Two Campmeeting

One of the best times of the year was at Campmeeting. The national Church was split up into districts and every year each district had its own Campmeeting. My district was MichiganWisconsin-Ontario and the campground was on Musgrove Highway near the tiny town of Sunfield, Michigan. I always looked forward to the ten day event. It was like a family vacation and meant that I would be surrounded by people I knew and who believed exactly what I did.

There were no differences, nothing to be ashamed of. At Campmeeting, we were a world unto ourselves.

It also meant that I could spend time with my best friend, Bob, whose dad pastored the church in Six Lakes, Michigan. Bob was more spiritual than I was or, at least, more dedicated to the Church. He was always participating in prayer meetings and as he got older became something of a spiritual leader among the young people.

Bob and I talked occasionally about the Church and religion, and once both expressed our amazement that we had somehow been born into the one group of people who were living as true Christians should. After all, we could just as easily have been born into a family that watched TV or, heaven forbid, into a family of Baptists!

The Baptists were considered highly suspect by the Holiness crowd for a couple of different reasons. First of all, they did not recognize sanctification in its proper form. This piece of theology was vital to that of the Conservative Holiness Movement. Second, Baptists adhered to the idea of “once saved, always saved,” which flew in the face of another basic Holiness facet, that of “backsliding.” We regarded Baptists and Catholics with something closely related to disdain. Their theology was completely off base and they were living a lie. Our mother church, the Nazarenes, was considered to have proper theology, but was also dismissed because of its unwillingness to live the true holiness path, since it had accepted the television and allowed its women to cut their hair and wear pants. Nazarenes were said to have “taken a lesser way.”

Pentecostals were also out, due to their practice of “speaking in tongues,” an act that the Bible Missionary Church considered something close to witchcraft. In short, my friend and I were very lucky to be in a place where heaven was a real possibility and we felt grateful for it.

This story illustrates the feelings that pervade the Church in which I grew up. We were all there was. We were the hope of the world, but couldn’t get too close to it for fear it would corrupt us.

We were the ones carrying out God’s message of holy living and everyone else was subpar. This inevitably led to a feeling of superiority among the ranks. The rest of the world was pretending to live faithful Christian lives, but they were all hypocrites or, at best, well-meaning simpletons who were in for quite a shock at the Judgment.

I will never forget the Campmeeting services. They were full of energy, hellfire and brimstone preaching, personal testimony, and sometimes godly chaos. I heard some of the most disturbing sermons available as the visiting evangelists would tell stories of people who had gone to hell and then describe the suffering in horrifying detail. One evangelist preached a memorable sermon in which he exegeted scripture to show that those who made it to heaven would be able to see the pyres of smoke coming from hell as their loved ones burned, but because heaven was a happy place, they would not have the ability to care or feel sad about it. “Just think about that,” he said. “Those of you rejecting Christ will be trapped in eternal flame and your family won’t even care that you’re there.”

Another preacher told stories about those who almost accepted Christ, but decided against it and then came to a horrible end. One such tale was about a woman who attended a campmeeting service and was begged by her family to accept Christ. She decided to wait until the next evening, but on the way home was in a terrible traffic accident and decapitated.

There was a man lying on his death bed who had refused to repent for his sins. As the end drew near, he began complaining about his feet getting hot and asked to have the covers removed. It grew worse and he requested a glass of water. The preacher telling this story paused for emphasis and then said, “He was already feeling the heat from hell.”

This last story came back to haunt me some years later when I attended a Grand Rapids Symphony concert featuring the late Lou Rawls. I got permission to go by telling my parents it was the symphony and failing to mention it would be featuring a secular vocalist. My guilt got the better of me about halfway through the concert as I began imagining that my feet were getting a bit too warm and envisioned myself slipping through my auditorium seat and into hell.

Stories this brutal are not the type to be forgotten and this was surely the point. They were designed to frighten people into seeking salvation, if not that night, then surely the next after they’d had plenty of time to think about the horrors that awaited them.

After the sermon, the pianist and singer would walk quietly to the front and sing a heartwrenching song, such as “Just As I Am” or “Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior.” During the times in my life when I was quite sure I wasn’t living up to the standard set by the Church, I remember the horrible feeling that washed over me as I sat through these “altar calls.” People with tears streaming down their faces would tug on your arm and beg you to walk to the front to accept Christ. If you refused, they would turn away, crushed and broken, convinced you had resigned yourself to hell. That is also the way you felt, desperate and miserable, as you waited for the service to mercifully end.

I can’t remember how many times I went forward during those services, but there were many. I just couldn’t seem to keep my standing with God on the proper standard while not at Campmeeting. On my own, away from the constant support system, my life inevitably strayed from the true path and I would end up sinning in some way, whether by becoming angry, jealous, saying mean things, thinking an evil thought, or failing to have regular devotions.

Sometimes at Campmeeting there would be services that included no preaching, but I didn’t like these any better. This usually meant that there was a “mighty moving of God” and those who knew they were both saved and sanctified would lose all sense of control and begin shouting the praises of God at the top of their lungs. People would pace around the building, waving their arms and shouting, while the more energetic saints would run through the building, sometimes going outside and circling the campground.

I only remember one year that I felt spiritual enough to participate in these proceedings. I was probably around fourteen years old. The service was in full swing and people were jumping up and down, running, and shouting. I wanted to be involved so badly that before I knew it I was sprinting full speed across the building, out the side door, and around the back. I reentered from the opposite side, still in high gear, and literally jumped over someone who was kneeling at the altar in fervent prayer. I lived off that moment for the rest of Campmeeting, soaking up the feeling of belonging and accomplishment. Occasionally someone would mention it or point in my direction, as if to say, “That young man is full of the Spirit.”

As time went on, however, and I grew older, the doubts and feelings of dissatisfaction never entirely left me. Those brief moments of sainthood were fleeting and the next year found me once again in the backslider’s seat, as did the next and the next. At last, I finished school and signed up to attend the denominational college, Bible Missionary Institute, in Rock Island, Illinois. Hopefully, this was where I would finally “get my feet down” and learn to live a true Christian life.

Chapter Three Bible Missionary Institute

In the fall of 1997, Bob left the district to attend Bible Missionary Institute and was already fairly established by the time I visited there later in the year as part of the Senior Day project. Senior Day was the time when prospective students from around the country would visit the campus to decide if college was for them. Although I don’t recall much about the visit, I nonetheless decided to attend the following year. This was largely due to the facts that attending Bible

Missionary Institute, while not required, was expected and aggressively encouraged and also because I was getting to the age when a young man’s fancy turns to leaving home.

My parents and I drove the six hour trip from Grand Rapids to Rock Island, my belongings in tow. As we drove up the steep incline toward campus, my stomach tightened. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to be there or what I was going to do in the meantime. At seventeen years old, I wasn’t about to admit that I was too young for anything, but at that moment I felt quite inexperienced and small.

The campus consisted of three main buildings: the Administration building, the women’s dorm (which also housed the dining area and lounge), and the men’s dorm. The Administration building was a boxy, tan colored edifice with a less than imposing multiple door entrance. The entire place was somewhat underwhelming. The buildings were all a rather uninspiring mix of tan and brown, the parking lots were gravel, and the landscaping left something to be desired. A tiny building sat by the entrance and it was explained to me that this was the Gatehouse, where students had to stop to let the attendant know whenever they were leaving, where they were going, and what time they planned to be back. When the student returned they had to stop at the Gatehouse to let the attendant know they had returned.

Students milled to and fro on the campus. Some appeared to be on some mission or other, while others just wandered, looking as lost as I felt. There seemed to be a dizzying number of things to get done, such as unpacking, registering, signing up for classes, and learning the daily routine.

Most of that first day was spent unpacking and I went to bed early, hoping to fall asleep quickly to prepare myself for the next day’s registration. I’d been told that the registration process was difficult and tedious. As it turned out, it was all I had feared and more. It is believed that one can gauge the impact of a single day in one’s life by the level of detail they can recall. Whether or not this is true, I remember this day with amazing detail. I got up that morning and dressed in a rather questionable combination of blue pants, striped blue and gray shirt, and solid, dark blue tie. Bob, who had been assigned as my roommate, warned me to be careful, lest I be swarmed by girls once they caught sight of my outfit. Sadly, my roommate’s finely honed sense of sarcasm and my wardrobe would prove to be the least of my worries.

As it turns out, Bible Missionary Institute’s registration process at that time was a travesty. It all seemed highly random. There were several different faculty members you had to visit and there was a waiting line for each. However, because there was no assigned placement, you might be at the front of the line for one office, but find yourself at the back of the line for the next, as some of the students had arrived the previous day and performed part of the rotation. It took two full days to register less than one hundred students. At last, however, the process was complete. I had set up my classes with the registrar, spoken with the dean of students, prayed with the school president, and set up a tuition payment plan with the business manager. I was now ready to begin Bible college.

It quickly became apparent that college was not going to be an escape from rules. There were, in fact, more than ever before. At the beginning of the year every student was issued a rule book, which at the time I regarded as being something akin to Moby Dick. It explained curfew, specific rules for dating other students, and the mandatory six-inch standard that states members of the opposite sex must remain at least six inches apart at all times. We were then required to sign a paper stating that we would abide by all the rules of the college. I signed, although the process seemed pointless and overdone to me. After all, if I was planning to break a bunch of rules would I really let a signature stop me?

Regardless, it was into this atmosphere of compliance that I entered in the fall of 1998. As it turns out, it didn’t take me long to break one of the rules, a rule I might have known about had I bothered to read the handbook.

Breakfast at Bible Missionary Institute was required. Every weekday morning all the students met in the dining hall at 7:00 AM sharp for devotions and breakfast. My first regular day began by meeting Bob at the door to the dining hall. We were just about to walk in when another student approached and informed me that my clothing was inappropriate.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“It’s your shirt. It’s made out of jean material. It’s against the rules.”

I glanced at Bob, seeking confirmation. He grimaced. “Right,” he said. “Sorry, I forgot about that.”

I didn’t have time to change, so I had to suffer through devotions and breakfast wearing my godless shirt. Fortunately, no one else mentioned it, possibly because anyone dressed in such a fashion might well be dangerous, and I was able to get rid of the offending garment before attending my first class of the day.

It soon became clear that, as with any school, there were cliques of varying natures. At Bible Missionary Institute there were those considered deeply spiritual, those obviously at odds with God, and those simply trying to make it through the day. The spiritual students were those who would be up early in the morning or late at night praying (sometimes at the expense of others who were trying to sleep), would attend all-night prayer meetings, and be the loudest participants in the daily chapel services. Those of the godless group always had a target on their backs.

Sermons were leveled at them, they were the first ones suspected if something went awry on campus, and they were watched closely by faculty members. If they pushed their rebellion too far, they could be asked to leave, as a few students were during my two years at the school.

The school’s schedule was largely built around perpetuating the idea that the way outlined by the Church was the only way. The classes were all based on the Bible Missionary Church’s view of scripture and there were daily chapel services in which the school president would hammer home

points of “biblical” teaching and various other instructions on behavior and lifestyle. Every so often the school would enter a period of revival, during which the school would practically shut down in an attempt to ratchet up the intensity of the propaganda. These times were brutal and carried on for an undetermined length of time, sometimes weeks, as preachers railed against sin and rebellion, prayer meetings were rampant, and students would huddle in their rooms for private moments of supplication to God. I will never forget the feeling on campus during those times. It was tight, restrictive, and a bit scary. The atmosphere was palpable as you walked around campus. Frivolity was highly discouraged, so as not to offend the Spirit of God. The chapel services were ruthless as the sermons became more and more pointed. President Jackson would preach against rebellion, homo-sexuality, an evil spirit, and demand that those not “right with God” fall onto the altar and pray for salvation. He would get so personal that students would be afraid he would call their names, as he very well might. Once in the middle of a prayer service, he called a male student out by name, saying, “You need to get down here and pray.” We were treated to all manner of teachings and opinion during these services. We were told that self-abuse was a sin, heard Martin Luther King, Jr. referred to as “Marxist Lucifer King,” and listened as J. Edgar Hoover’s sexual orientation was defended to the hilt. Even at that time, the harshness of the teaching, in particular the remark concerning Dr. King, troubled me greatly and I instinctively recoiled from the philosophy. It struck me as mean-spirited, unnecessary, and possibly racist.

The periods of revival were exhausting and most students were happy once it was over. Even those entrenched in the spirit of revival could only stand the pressure so long. The efforts to indoctrinate were so severe that, even as I tried to align myself with the side of God and the angels, I began to sense a little pulling away deep inside and the continuing inability to fully abandon myself to the will of God. It was similar to a case of “the lady doth protest too much, methinks.” The establish-ment was so desperate to make their case that it made me a little suspicious. If what they were saying was so worthy, why were they so worried someone might not accept it?

Other questions began to arise in my mind around this same time. For example, we were expected to give the God the praise for everything good in our lives. If we passed a class with a good grade, then “praise God.” If we were hired for a job, then “to God be the glory.” If any other good news came our way, then “thank you, Jesus.” Yet, anytime something went wrong, God never got the blame. It just didn’t seem fair. Why were we, the weak, simple creatures of Creation, expected to coddle our omnipotent creator? What kind of racket was he running? There were also typical questions that believers receive, such as, “Why is there suffering in the world?”

I had no answers for these and the explanations given to me by those obviously more spiritual were unsatisfactory, even to a young Christian who was actually trying to understand.

Those who became aware of my intellectual struggles were quick to point out that not everything could be understood. Since we were limited creatures, there was no way we were ever going to comprehend God and his ways. There were just some things that must be accepted through faith.

There was one particular chapel service I remember clearly. President Jackson had opened the altar for seekers and I went forward, desperate to attain the work of sanctification I must have in order to be a strong force for God and ultimately enter heaven. I knelt on the floor and bent over the altar, feeling determined and willing. My body literally shook and trembled as I tried my best to open my spiritual heart, even visualizing the process in my mind. I told God I was willing to do anything if he would give me this gift and I meant it. In an effort to humble myself and show God I was serious, I moved over to where Bob was praying and confessed that I had felt jealous of his spiritual standing in the school. I then crawled toward the dorm supervisor and confessed my feelings of rebellion toward his leadership. After returning to my place at the altar, I continued to pray, my entire body tensing and twisting in my efforts to reach God. Another friend and faculty member, Paul, knelt near me, mingling his prayers with mine. He bent closer, saying, “Why don’t you just step in, Craig?”

Maybe that was the answer, I decided. I just had to believe and accept the gift. I had done all I knew to do. With that decision made, I stood up and claimed sanctification. President Jackson approached and asked if I had received “the blessing.” I nodded and said I had, but the look in his eyes told me that he wasn’t convinced. Neither was I. I didn’t feel any different. While others were jumping to their feet and shouting out their victories, I felt no emotion, no affirmation, no reassurance. I felt cheated. The experience was entirely anti-climactic. I had given everything to God and it seemed the least he could do was let me know he appreciated it. With effort, I pushed my disappointment away, knowing by instruction that sometimes the blessing took a while to be made real to the seeker. Sometime soon, God would speak to my soul.

That time never came. I spend the rest of my days at school struggling with the quality and reality of the teachings and it wasn’t too long before I was back at the altar, seeking again for that elusive second work of grace.

My questions continued to grow. My doubts multiplied and became increasingly difficult to answer and ignore. Something about the theology and lifestyle simply didn’t add up in my mind.

Movies, for example, were entirely banned because of their questionable content. However, I couldn’t imagine that every movie contained pornography and endorsements of sin. During one of my summer breaks, I worked at Family Christian Stores, a religious bookstore that stocked movies just for Christians. Could these also be evil? I knew this was not the case, yet they were also banned. But then what about magazines? There were “evil” magazines available, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t read the Reader’s Digest. The Church even had its own publication, The Missionary Revivalist. There were questionable books available, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t read any other books. There were music compact discs that contained ungodly music,

but there were Christians making CDs that were acceptable to purchase. It was the inconsistency that struck me as small-minded and absurd.

After two years, I left Bible Missionary Institute, not finishing the degree and returning to my home church with more questions than when I went.

Chapter Four Breaking Point

In 2000, the Bible Missionary Church held its General Conference, which is a nationwide meeting of pastors and delegates that congregate to consider laws and possible additions to the working manual. The most contentious motion on the table was the Internet question. Over the past few years, more members had been using the Internet in their homes and this was causing great concern among the establishment, who were convinced this would lead to widespread corruption and sin within the Church.

There were three factions at the conference. One wanted to allow the use of the Internet, others wanted to ban it from the home, but allow its use elsewhere. The final group wanted to outlaw it altogether, except where required by members’ employers. The debates were rife with tension and fears began mounting that the issue would rupture the Church.

The most powerful group ended up being those who wanted to ban its use at home, but allow its use elsewhere, including the public library. An allowance would also be made for those who wanted to construct a separate building on their property to house an Internet-capable computer.

Theoretically, if you owned a garage that was not directly connected to your home, you would be allowed to run a phone line out to it and access the Internet from there. It was an absurd proposition. At age nineteen, I was not a voting delegate to the conference, but I was in attendance and argued with various people regarding the short-sighted plan.

“The Internet is not going away,” I said. “The Church will hamstring itself with this rule. First of all, people are not going to abide by it and, second, there will come a time when everything will run from the Web, including shopping, banking, stock portfolios, college coursework, and travel arrange-ments. What about email? Are you seriously expecting everyone to run off to the library every time they want to send an email, buy a plane ticket, or do some homework? It will never work and will tear the Church apart.”

“The Internet is a cesspool of pornography,” they replied. “We want to protect our families.”

“Understandable. Yet you can find Hustler magazine at your local party store. If people want it, they’re going to find it. We have to be realistic. Times are changing. If the Church wants to remain viable and relevant, it has to understand what it’s dealing with.”

That was the salient point. Most people doing the voting had no working knowledge of the Internet. All they knew was what they were being told, that the Internet was an evil entity that would do nothing but destroy the family.

I don’t remember anyone I talked to agreeing with my points and the Internet was banned from the home during the conference, setting off a storm of controversy around the Church movement.

Aside from the fact that the vote was held under highly suspicious circumstances and amid widespread accusations of foul-play and underhanded politics, there were many members in the Church who felt this latest display of legalism was too much. Over the next couple of years, the Bible Missionary Church lost many churches, which ended up forming their own organization, the Pilgrim Nazarene Church, in 2003. The entire mess was simply ridiculous and instrumental in causing me to recognize the clay feet that had supported the Church all these years. The Church split tore families and friends apart, caused great pain and grief to many, and was certainly not representative of the message of love and redemption Christians are supposed to champion.

The controversy continued for years and impacted my home church in Grand Rapids. It was an uncomfortable time for me. I recognized the flaws in the Bible Missionary Church, but was torn by family loyalty, my father having recently been voted the moderator of the Michigan District.

He was embroiled in a fight to keep the district together and a vote to leave would feel like a vote against him.

I was feeling dissatisfied with the entire Church structure and stance, anyway, beyond simply the Internet issue. My local church was withered, repetitive, and without life. You could tell nobody really wanted to be there and the introduction of a new pastor had caused some problems right away.

He and I clashed early and I made the mistake of questioning his clumsy, unimaginative methods in a public forum. It was painfully obvious I had no real church home. Things were changing, I was changing, and it was unclear how it would all shake out.

At last I decided to recuse myself from the situation and turn in my membership. I simply did not feel I should participate in the upcoming vote to either stay or go. I was already planning my eventual escape and therefore felt it would be unfair to vote for the congregation to stay part of the Church, and yet I didn’t feel strongly enough about leaving to stay and cast a vote against the leadership of my father. It was time to go.

I floated to first one church and then another, but nothing seemed to fit. The first church was another BMC location in Michigan and I commuted for several months before realizing I had

simply traded one problem for another. I then began attending a church of a different denomination, still searching, still holding onto the basic tenets of my faith. Here again, church politics became clear. People were the same, no matter the sign over the door. I had gotten my fill of religion. My spiritual growth had begun, although I would leave it altogether before getting it back.

Over the next few years, I would embark on a journey to find the answers to my questions.

Although I thought I was open to finding the truth, when the answers did arrive they came as a shock. Could everything I had been taught be so wrong? Was it possible there were people outside my little box of existence who were living moral, healthy lives without guidance from the Church? The original doubts that had plagued my mind at the membership ceremony came back in force, bringing with them new questions for which I had no answer.

The more I questioned, the deeper the hole I was digging became. Maybe the issue wasn’t that religion was faulty, perhaps its basic tenets were false. Was the Bible the word of God? Was Jesus Christ the son of God? Did God himself even exist? It was with these questions in mind that I began the most honest searching yet. I truly wanted to know the answers to life’s problems apart from the tepid explanations my upbringing gave me. There had to be more to it. There had to be a philosophy or world view that provided the same foundation as religion, but did not possess the judgmental, confining, and fear-mongering qualities of fundamentalist Christianity.

I had tried other churches, somehow hoping that non-denominational organizations would provide a better home. Yet I discovered they had many of the same problems. They still held tightly to the same Christian standards of biblical inspiration and salvation. Some did not recognize sanctification in the same form as I had been taught, but they did not welcome dissent and demanded the same level of commitment. The questions had remained.

It was clear that a journey such as the one on which I was embarking was destined to be a personal one. It was up to me to decipher the mysteries of God and Universe, to find out what it meant for me. In other words, as the Bible aptly states, to “work out [my] own salvation with fear and trembling.” (Philippians 2:12)

Chapter Five My Spiritual Beginning

The change didn’t happen quickly. My disgust with and consequent rejection of religion left a void inside my life. It had been all I’d known for years. I went through several phases during this time: a progressive rejection of church beliefs, the conclusion that nothing mattered, and finally the questioning of God’s existence. Over time, wounds began to heal and I began an honest

reconsideration of my childhood beliefs. I was no longer hell-bent on shedding all belief systems.

This time I wanted to know the truth about them.

It became my plan to deconstruct Christianity from the top until I arrived at the final cornerstone, much like Descartes’ process of doubting everything until arriving at a single undeniable fact, and then building my worldview from there. The problem I found was that everything could be doubted and the more I thought about it, the more I believed it should be. I began to realize that it was unnecessary to examine every single position of Christianity, since the religion was supported by a few basic ideas, without which it would become meaningless and crumble. Why waste my time on a study of minute precepts when I could pursue my task by examining these major thoughts?

As I did so, it soon became clear that the religion of my childhood left much to be desired and relied heavily on blind faith, with no supporting evidence or basis in logical thought. Slowly, I began chipping away at these former beliefs, studying, reading, and drawing ultimate conclusions. One by one, they disappeared, unable to withstand honest probing and examination.

As they vanished, however, they left an emptiness behind, not the uneasy conscience of one who ignores something they know to be true, but the void felt when something familiar is no longer there for comfort and support. I knew there had to be something out there to confront all the questions that suddenly had to be answered: “Where did we come from, how did the world get here, is there a God?” All these questions and more had formerly not been an issue for me, as the Church had always been there with the solution. Now that certainty was gone, but I knew there had to be something out there waiting to be discovered and recognized.

It was then I began formulating and studying the philosophy of Energetic Universalism, a school of thought that suggests the Universe and Life are a result of an all-encompassing field of infinite energy. That energy is known as God. This philosophy began answering those big questions of life again, but without the crushing weight of religion to accompany it.

Having struggled with the hurt, fear, and guilt of leaving the Church, it is my hope that if you are one of those individuals still unhappily trapped in the mire of religion, this book will prove to be of some use as you begin your journey out of fundamentalism. Writing it has proven highly therapeutic for me and I sincerely hope that reading it will do the same for you.

Part Two Religion’s Autopsy

Chapter Six Blind No More

As I watched the smoke swirl from the end of my cigar, rise into air, and finally disappear into the ceiling vent, I realized that this is what life is like. Did it really make sense that a god would create such a fleeting race, a race that lives only long enough to figure out what they did wrong with their lives? If such is true, then this god must be a very cruel prankster, indeed.

To inflict a life of pain, struggle, heartache, and trials onto a helpless creature and then snuff out its life in a manner just as painful—Death—is beyond the pale in regards to a benevolent higher power. It isn’t a question of why doesn’t he stop it. The question is, when looked through the lens of traditional Christianity, why he set it up that way to begin with.

The argument that man’s sin corrupted God’s plan is simply a tepid attempt to recuse God of obligation. In my view, he had a responsibility to protect his interests. A creation can have free will and still enjoy the protection of an omnipotent hand that prevents it from destroying itself.

We in America claim to have freedom, yet we are governed by basic laws that protect society.

We are forbidden to drive 120 mph on the interstate, because we would kill ourselves and those around us. Grocers are forbidden to sell expired meat products in order to prevent the outbreak of bacterial disease. While a maniac could choose to drive 120 mph and an unscrupulous grocer could sell rotten meat, it wouldn’t result in everyone in the world subsequently receiving jail time. According to Christian mythology, however, we are all expected to pay for the mistakes of Adam and Eve. The promise of heaven is a consolation prize at best. It does not answer the bigger question of, “What are we all doing here in the first place?” God could not have set this mess up. It is far more likely that it happened this way and he is making the best of it. It’s nobody’s fault, perhaps.

It’s just the way the cookie crumbled.

The god of fundamentalist Christianity would be an evil deity. Yet God cannot truly be evil, because we would all be dead by now or, at least, no one would be happy—an evil God would see to it. The mere fact that I am writing this and you are reading makes it clear we are not all dead. Not everyone is miserable; many people are happy, at least at some point. Therefore the god of fundamentalism does not exist. They have bound and gagged the gods and made them one of their making, one that fits their ideals and blesses their creed, and one that spurs them on to world domination with an “ends to justify the means” ideology.

I was raised to believe a series of ideas, ideas that were not to be questioned. Other items were up for debate, but these were not. Any suggestion of doubt in these areas was a sign of a soul in danger, a soul within the grips of the enemy. Repentance must be swift or the unhappy soul

would become a pariah from the tight-knit community that is fundamentalist Christianity. These notions were as follows: (1.) The Bible is the inerrant word of God (2.) God exists and created the world in six days, true to the Genesis account (3.) Jesus Christ is the son of God. He came to earth and died on the cross for our sins. He then rose from the dead and ascended into heaven.

Salvation through Christ, by the confession of sins, is the only way to enter heaven after death.

These three statements form the backbone of the fundamentalist movement. There are sects of Christians who accept the concept of evolution and the idea that the Bible may contain errors, but traditionalists cling to these three precepts tightly, as if their existence depends upon them, which in fact it does.

In order to search for the Truth as it exists, we must first examine and deconstruct the current ideas regarding Truth as we know it. For Christians, the rules of faith are concrete and sacred.

However, one can never know Truth until one has acknowledged that there is no Truth. At this point, Truth begins to appear. In a complete reversal of Christian theology, which states that one must believe before receiving, Truth asks that you recognize its absence before it begins to reveal itself. For it is only by accepting the existence of nothing that one becomes ready to handle the bigger ideas of life and spirit.

This is why it is vitally important that Christians, especially fundamentalists, who are struggling with the tenets of the faith examine every aspect of it. It is incredibly easy on this journey to create protective boxes around the subjects we don’t feel comfortable examining. If you do this, you may as well abandon your journey now, not to mention dropping this book into the nearest Goodwill donation bin. There can be no walls, no resistance, no unwillingness to accept the Truth when it presents itself. You may or may not arrive at the conclusions I do, but all boundaries must go.

In order to better prepare yourself for the Search, envision yourself standing at the beginning of a vast open plain. Grass and wildflowers stretch out before you as far as the eye can see. There aren’t any roads or pathways, no sign for direction, no map or tour guide. Where you go and how you proceed is up to you. You are in control of your direction, your rate of travel, and what you stop to examine along the way. Because you have no idea which way to go, you start walking straight ahead. Eventually you come to a fence and in front of you is a Gate of Belief. In order to continue, you must be willing to honestly examine the land beyond the gate. It may mean that the Gate of Belief was a mirage and something you’ve held close to your heart for years may be false and fleeting. The only way the gate will open is if you are truly willing to accept its nonexistence. Once you do, it swings open and you are free to proceed. If it is a belief you are unwilling to relinquish, the gate will remain closed and you will only be able to explore the territory inside the fence. You may have embarked on your journey, but have succeeded only in creating new boundaries for yourself.

You will encounter many Gates of Belief along the way. The more you open, the wider your world will become and the farther into the mysteries of Life you will be able to travel. The farther away from home you get, the scarier things are likely to become as your surroundings grow more and more unfamiliar. The Journey is not for the weak of heart or the insincere student.

As you progress, you will begin to sense a guide walking beside you, nudging your elbow in one direction or another as you continue to bypass various facets of the old life. The more layers you shed, the more keenly you will feel the guidance. Truth is beginning to accept your quest and is lending a hand.

You do not need to be a scholar to begin the Search. You don’t need to know what you’re doing or where you’re headed. In fact, the absence of a destination is vital. All you need is an open mind and a willing heart. The Truth will set you free.

Chapter Seven Exactly What Is Religion?

Before tackling the foundations of Christianity, we should go back further and examine the idea of religion itself, how it became so powerful, and the unique dangers it poses. Religion is the stage on which Christianity is set, the framework on which it hangs. Without the qualities of religion, Christianity would not be the force is it today.

Religion is the single greatest force ever devised by mankind. Outstripping nuclear energy or military might, religion has the power to change people, control people, hold them hostage, cause them to feel free, and make them do things they would never otherwise consider.

Religion has healed relationships, given people the power to make difficult decisions, and provided peace of mind in difficult times. Yet religion has a decided dark side. Religion has turned families against each other, ruined friendships, and resulted in disastrous decisions.

Countless battles and wars have been fought over religion, and cruelty performed in its name stains the pages of history.

Entire books have been written debating whether or not religion's benefits outweigh the price it has exacted on the world. Does the fact that it can be a comfort justify keeping it around when it just as often causes suffering? Do the ends justify the means?

When dealing with subject matter that can mean so many things to so many people, it is often useful to provide a definition of terms. There is a difference between religion and faith, and between faith and spirituality. As defined by this book, religion is “a set of beliefs that exists for

a specific purpose.” Christianity, for example, states that the acceptance of its belief system will result in the forgiveness of sins and eternal life. A typical aspect of religion is reward for obedience and judgment in return for rejection. So we can see right away that religion’s purpose can often be peripherally defined as the accumulation of power and ultimate domination.

Is Religion Evil?

The power religion wields is a personal one. By claiming to control the future of an individual and convincing them that this future is dependent on adhering to a certain set of rules, the Church controls the individual’s present existence by claiming power over a future existence. Once you control someone’s present existence, you control everything about them. Keeping itself alive through the vitality and dedication of its converts, and living vicariously through them has historically been the game plan of organized religion. Strictly speaking, religion can then be defined as a parasite, feeding on those who come to it for strength. Using this formula, many would say that organized religion is naturally and unavoidably evil.

This will undoubtedly be disturbing and repugnant to many readers who are still deeply involved in a local church. They may accept the premise, but will argue that their organization is the exception. “Other churches may practice a twisted form of religion,” they would say, “but my church focuses on the betterment of mankind.”

Yet there are no exceptions. There is no local church that is free of politics. There is no ruling body in organized religion that has not corrupted itself through decision, mandate, or enforcement. This does not mean that every local church is itself evil. While this may seem like a contradiction, it is where the proverbial rubber begins to meet the road. It is where the concept of higher perception slides between the blood-red lens of devotion and allows a believer to begin seeing things in perspective.

To assist with this insight, perhaps we should take the time to define religious evil as well. To a dictionary, “evil” would mean something like, “morally reprehensible, wicked, or malevolent.”

We all know there are churches and religions out there that have malevolent intentions. They exist beyond the reaches of debate. We also know, however, that not all fit into this category, but neither does this make them the polar opposite. Churches operate on a level of control. There are standards that must be followed if one is to join the congregation as a member.¬¬¬“So what?” you may say. “What’s wrong with that? A church can’t just let anyone be a member.

A church has to have standards.”

On the surface, this may seem like a valid point, but using the concept of higher perception shows us the inherent danger of this type of organization. By breaking down what these

standards actually mean, we can see the danger in the method. In the church world, there are various assumptions made about behavior and the logical order of things. For example, upholding the standards presented by the Church sets up an unhappy chain of assumptions that, when carried through to its logical conclusion, illustrates the problem. These assumptions are as follows: (1.) One upholds the standards so they can become an involved, dedicated member. (2.)

Becoming an involved, dedicated member reveals a higher level of spirituality and commitment to God. (3.) Being committed to God means being closer to him. (4.) Get close enough to God and you will go to heaven. (5.) If being this close to God is what it takes to go to heaven, then those who fall short will not go to heaven and must be sinners. (6.) Therefore, our way is the only way to heaven.

You can doubtless see how this unfortunately common pattern leads inevitably to the control issues experienced by organized religion. We have not yet shown the correlation between this annoying religious tendency and the definition of evil, but we are on the way.

The above pattern is all about control, in that it provides no realistic personal choice. While the Church may say that they do provide choice in that they do not force anyone to accept their position, in essence they do just that. By giving someone two options, one of which involves eternal death, you are essentially refusing to provide any options at all. The alternative is so odious as to be unable to stand alone on its own merits. If someone took you to the brink of a cliff and gave you the choice of either walking away from the edge or jumping off into a sea of piranha, would you consider both valid options?

This control manifests itself in many ways, but the exposition above shows the root of the problem. To control someone’s life and ability to make decisions may not, in this case, constitute absolute slavery, but it is akin. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that church members are the sharecroppers of the religious world. They aren’t technically slaves to the system, but they may as well be, given their future without it.

If one accepts the idea that mankind is meant for freedom, then to control a human being is immoral. Combine that with the fact that control inevitably corrupts and you have a nice little recipe for manipulation. Religion controls and eventually manipulates the thoughts, actions, and beliefs of its subscribers. It is, therefore, evil by definition.

Remember that we are talking about organized religion. As I said earlier, this does not necessarily mean that your local church is evil in and of itself. There are almost certainly many good people who perform deeds of quality in the community and practice a great deal of selfsacrifice for the better-ment of others. However, the idea of religion itself is without a doubt a breeding ground for the practice we have described, that of corruption and manipulation. Being associated with such too often negates admirable acts to an unfortunate extent.

It is also a valid distinction that one does not have to be associated with a religious group in order to serve humanity. Does organization aid in these endeavors? The answer, of course, is yes, and I am not saying everyone should leave their churches and strike out alone. However, one must be aware of the consequences and cognizant of the danger of the process, lest they be caught up in it, a tragedy that occurs more often than not.

Another reason that religion is evil is because it is administrated by human beings. I’m not going to get into a discussion here about whether man is basically bad or good, but it is safe to say that, based on history, mankind rarely passes up an opportunity to make life miserable for its fellows.

Intentionally designed or not, religion turned out to be the perfect vehicle, for the very reasons articulated above.

The misuse of religion is nothing new. It has been going on from the beginning. As soon as someone realized they could make someone else do something simply by telling them they would burn forever if they didn’t, the world was doomed. We still haven’t gotten away from it.

People are continuing to live their lives in certain ways simply to avoid eternal damnation, to avoid making God angry.

Religion, Faith, and Spirituality But what is religion, exactly? What about it makes it so attractive to people? Certainly there has to be some reason why millions have flocked to various belief systems, even if those religions haven’t treated them particularly well. Why does religion have such a hold on people? There are many reasons.

Religion gives people a sense of belonging. Church congregations are often close-knit and clannish. In my home church the congregation was quite small and had the feel of a small town.

Everybody knew everything. It was us against the world. We were a tiny kingdom all to ourselves. Although there were the inevitable problems, there was a sense of camaraderie, almost as if we all had a membership to the same exclusive club, which I guess we did.

People yearn for companionship and religion, in the form of churches, provides that: youth groups, couples’ nights, and potluck dinners. It may sound like a small thing, but once you’ve belonged somewhere, it’s not easy to put it aside and set sail for the unknown. It’s often easier just to stay where you are and deal with the uncertainties in silence or even ignore them altogether.

People often don’t want to think about the issues. It is simpler to do what they’re told, instead of finding their own way. Why struggle with the deep problems of life and eternity when you can let someone else do it for you and then just take their word for it? If they’re wrong, then it’s their

problem, right? However, the Bible, the sacred book of these same followers, instructs them to “…work out your own salvation…” (Philippians 2:12) Yet, who bothers to do that? More often, believers simply rely on tradition and habit.

Generations attend the same church, because leaving would cause a family rift. A disillusioned member continues teaching Sunday School, because to quit would raise questions about their spirituality. A teenager joins the Church because he thinks it is the right thing to do. Religion has such a long tradition that it simply does not occur to many people that there are options.

The last and most obvious reason for religion’s success is that it promises people life after death: bliss if they were good, torment if they were bad. Religion has served as a way to make living life a little bit easier, giving human beings a sense of purpose and a motivation to be decent.

Most people want to believe that there is something else out there waiting for us and that this strange, often downright unpleasant existence isn’t all there is to it. That our efforts to be good will somehow pay off in the end and the evil among us will eventually get its comeuppance. It’s comforting to think about and certainly we can’t blame anyone for choosing this avenue if it gives them a measure of peace. People want to believe it. That does not, however, make it accurate.

Freud, in writing The Future of an Illusion, said “what is characteristic of illusions is that they are derived from human wishes.” Therefore religion, with its comfortable promises of reward and certain desirable elements such as all evil eventually being repaid and all being set right in the end, is just a bit too tidy, too convenient. Of course, just because something is “pleasant” or an “illusion” does not make it necessarily false, as Freud goes on to say. However, religion does possess a “too good to be true” quality.

I am not a complete realist, believing only in what I can see, touch, and hear. I believe in a god, but god without the shackles of organized religion. However, is that even possible? Does a belief in a god constitute a religion in and of itself? Let’s go back to our definition: religion is a set of beliefs that exists for a specific purpose. Why do I believe in a god? It is not for a purpose—as a way to escape hell, for example. Additionally, a simple belief in a god does not constitute a set of beliefs. Using our definition, a simple belief in a god—and even the attempt to live as if he exists —cannot be described as religion. Rather, it is a faith.

The difference between religion and faith is vaster than one might think. As opposed to religion, faith can be defined as “a belief—or set of—that cannot be irrefutably proven.” For example, I believe in the existence of a moral code, that some things are universally bad and some are good.

While I cannot show anyone a magnified photograph of such a code, I know how I feel when I perform a good deed or when I do something I know I shouldn’t. I feel disgust when I read about heinous crimes and cheer when justice is meted out. These same feelings are also partly why I tend to believe in a god. However, they do not prove his existence and therefore my opinion that he exists, at least in some form, is faith.

The more scientific often scoff at the acceptance of feelings as any measure of proof or guidance.

However, one cannot entirely discount the heart. When you reach the most basic belief—does God exist?—there is no proof or evidence on which to rely. One must turn to the heart. Scientists themselves must rely on faith. They believe there is an order to the Universe, that a mathematical equation will be consistent, that the results of research suggest a certain truth, and that the findings of an experiment will remain valid. Without faith, science would never be able to arrive at or publish its findings, since the next time they ran the experiment or delved into the depths of the Universe, everything might have changed. There is nothing wrong with faith. It is an integral part of the human experience.

We’ve all heard the various arguments against God—why is there suffering in the world, for example—but these are not proof. They are merely questions and obstacles to faith. They are legitimate and one might choose to accept these doubts as proof, as many have, but they are not proof. In fact, accepting a doubt as fact is, in itself, a form of faith.

Unfortunately, God is not locked in a university test tube somewhere to be examined. His existence cannot be directly observed, tested, and then either verified or disproved. One must ultimately turn to the heart in order to settle the God Question.

Spirituality, strictly defined, is “the condition or quality of being spiritual.” It is the sense that there is Something Out There. It is not faith, per se, because spirituality does not necessarily define this Something. With the decline of organized religion and the increasing number of people disgusted with fundamentalism’s harsh and narrow-minded worldview, more individuals are describing themselves as spiritual.

It’s impossible to know what they mean by this, of course, because “being spiritual” has limitless possibilities. What most of them are trying to say, I believe, is that they shun the traditional view of God and religion, and are in the process of creating their own worldview.

I view mere spirituality as a stopping point to another destination. Human beings just aren’t made—and I use that term loosely—to “not know.” We have an innate curiosity and inquisitiveness that demands we explore the unknown. This is a good thing. I do not cast any aspersions at what I term “mere spirituality.” I only say that it is, by the earlier definition, vague and unsustainable for most people. The majority of us will, at some point, put together a more solid belief system, which then becomes either religion, faith, or both.

It may be worth our while to note that religion and faith can coexist. However, they are not mutually dependent. While religion cannot exist without faith, faith can exist without religion.

And it should, for reasons we will next examine.

Chapter Eight

The Danger of Religion

My heart tells me there is a god. Yours may tell you something different. I am okay with that.

Fundamentalists are not. This defines the greatest complaint I have with fundamentalism as a whole. They are dissatisfied with and unable to accept the fact that someone might disagree with their belief system. They are determined—required, really—to go beyond a friendly disagreement. They must convert the unbeliever.

To be fair, one must realize that a cornerstone of religion is conversion. A religion without converts will quickly fade and die. To truly accept a religion, with all its nebulous facets and airy promises, one must wholly embrace it. One must become a near fanatic. Anyone who feels strongly enough to convert will likely feel strongly enough to share it with others and be disappointed when they don’t exhibit the same level of enthusiasm.

Imagine a co-worker arriving at the office with pictures of the new baby in the family. The coworker is ecstatic and flaunts the photos relentlessly. To avoid hurt feelings, it is expected that everyone show at least a measure of interest, even though nobody really cares. There are times when people simply must share personal experiences. Religion, with its innately personal and often inspiring tendencies, qualifies as such.

So we can excuse the zealous convert, can we not? They may be annoying at the office, but no more so than the guy who screams at the copy machine or the woman who wears too much perfume.

Of course, it goes deeper than that. Believers are often genuinely concerned for the spiritual well-being of the person they are attempting to convert. They are convinced that if they do not succeed in winning them to Christ, the sinner will die and spend eternity in hell. Believers are often required to visit the “highways and byways” in search of converts. In my church, for example, you were considered to have blood on your hands—be partially responsible for the sinner’s damnation—if you didn’t do all you could to turn them onto the straight and narrow.

“Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.” (Mark 16:15) My argument is not with the fact that someone accepts a faith, feels good about it, and wants to share. My argument is with the believer who demands my conversion or else. The office worker may force me to look at the baby pictures and I’ll survive, but when they say that I must either agree that it’s the cutest baby ever or go to hell, well, that’s crossing the line.

The sheer arrogance of this approach is simply mind-boggling. I feel somewhat like Christopher Hitchens, author of God is not Great, when he says that he will need to hear a lot more apologizing from Christians about the trouble their religion has caused before he will allow them to lecture him on morality.

My real sadness is for these same believers, however, because their god apparently isn’t big enough to handle his own problems. He needs people to run around and make nuisances of themselves in order to accomplish his will. Their god isn’t big enough to handle criticism or honest questions and needs his people to quiet the opposition and quell discontent. The void in their religion saddens me. I can feel comfortable with my questions and uncertainty, because I know God is not petty enough to resent it and is wise enough to expect it. God is not unreasonable and doubtless recognizes a large part of the faith concept to be just that. “I am going to give you evidence of nothing and expect you to believe everything,” God reportedly says. Does this sound like an omnipotent, reasonable being?

Although I hold strong opinions regarding religion as a whole, it is necessary to be careful not to commit the same transgressions religion commits. While religion attacks those who do not share the same beliefs as do they, it is equally easy to attack those who do not disbelieve the same things. Neither approach is acceptable and both are equally destructive and petulant.

I should make it clear that I do not suggest believers are evil. American churches are full of wellmeaning people who perform good works and have dedicated their lives to the advancement of others. They are to be commended for their dedication and sacrifice. My problem lies with religion itself, with the ideal and the organization. The problem with religion is that the truly selfless workers are a minority and largely overshadowed by the self-righteous, judgmental culture that exists at the core of nearly all Christian churches.

My disgust with religion, however, must coexist with my grudging admiration for the effectiveness of its methods. Karl Marx wrote that “religion is the opium of the people.”

Although Marx wasn’t entirely disparaging religion with these words, the phrase rings true.

Religion and drugs are disturbingly similar.

Consider a crack dealer who will often give samples of his product away for free, knowing he has likely created a lifelong customer. He has set himself up as the sole provider for this person, eventually becoming the centerpiece of their life. The Church is much the same. They preach a message of guilt and fear. Once they have people hooked on the message, they reveal themselves as the provider of salvation. “Follow us and receive peace. Adopt our creed and be eternally secure.” People crave assurance and knowledge of the future. Some of the craziest religious leaders have received vast attention simply by claiming to know the future. 99.9% of the world knows intellectually that they’re nuts, but…what if?

The Church doesn’t pretend to tell the future—at least not the immediate future—because that is an unsustainable claim. They do promise the next best thing, however, and that is to see that it all comes out right in the end, as long as one is faithful. There’s the catch.

The more conspiratorially-minded could make a case that the construction of religion was intentional in purpose. It really would be a brilliant scheme—trading people assurance of salvation for their allegiance, i.e. time, money, dignity, and talent. The point could be made that

the prevailing fallacies about God are so detailed and insidiously brilliant that they cannot be accidental. Is it a far stretch to say that religion was intentionally created by men in order to better control other men? In any case, it succeeds wonderfully in this manner.

The Church, in particular fundamentalist groups, guides its flock in all things: behavior, entertainment, speech, wardrobe, sex, and finance. It dictates that a member cannot do certain things, enjoy certain things, say certain things, and wear certain things. Sex is for marriage and between a man and a woman. Oh, and don’t forget to tithe at least 10% and give liberally in special offerings.

Additionally, Christianity has been very clever in building their base support around ideas that cannot be either proven or disproved. An opponent of the faith cannot unequivocally say there will not be a Second Coming of Christ, for example, because it is a future event with no set date.

The folly of excess certitude can be seen in the unceremonious death of various cults that routinely arise, claiming to have pinpointed the day of Christ’s return. The hour comes and goes.

Because the cult’s foundation was built on a single impending event, it quickly crumbles once it is seen to be a farce.

Christianity avoided that mistake. Like most religions, it is founded on the idea of faith: “You must simply believe.” This is why arguing with a believer is often so pointless. If they feel the discussion turning against them, they can simply fall back on the intangible faith issue. This is a weak-minded defense, the easy way out, and much akin to the default child’s argument of, “Yeah, so, I don’t care.”

By the same token, a believer cannot prove their faith to a non-believer, but must convince them to accept the same level of blind faith. How do they do this? If examined honestly and critically, it sounds pretty fantastic. Let’s examine Christianity in a nutshell: The first two people on earth were originally perfect, but committed a sin, thereby bringing evil into the world. This evil stalked humanity for many years and the only way to atone for it was by periodically killing animals. Then God had a son and sent him to earth and had him killed instead, putting an end to the need for animal sacrifices. Now all we have to do is believe this happened and we’re good.

As fairytale-like as it sounds, the story has gained legions of followers, as have other major religions. Sub-religions—branches of existing belief systems—many of which make far crazier claims, also gain followers. Why do people accept this?

Fundamentalists have no real evidence to back up their claims, but seem to base most of their arguments on the idea, “What if we’re right and you are wrong?” The idea that this is, in any way, a viable source of proof is beyond ridiculous. I could employ the same strategy by stopping random strangers on the street, demanding their money, and threatening to call down fire from heaven if they refuse.

“That’s ridiculous!” they’d say.

Playing the part of the fundamentalist, I would raise a knowing eyebrow and reply, “But what if I’m right…?” Meaning, of course, that by giving me their money they will have assured their own survival.

While this particular get-rich-quick scheme would have no chance of success, religion has employed a similar strategy brilliantly, even down to the “give me your money” part. Millions of people have fallen for the line and decided to play it safe by joining one religious cause or another.

Religion exploits the innate uncertainty of man. It promises everything in return for, well, everything. In this way, one gives up everything they currently have in order to gain something else at an undetermined later date. Not the greatest of investments, but an impressively clever ploy. Since the rewards are post-death, one cannot prove or disprove the claims. People die and are said to have “gone to their reward,” presumably regaining everything they gave up, with interest.

Something inside mankind wants the stories to be true. People will believe anything if they can be made to desire it. It happens every day in countless ways. A wife so badly wants to believe her husband is faithful that she believes it, ignoring the nightly smears of lipstick on his office attire. An overweight, dieting person convinces himself that one doughnut won’t hurt him, so he eats two. It’s human nature. But what makes people desire to believe? Fundamentalists say this desire is proof itself that what they say is true. “The world is hungry for what we want,” I often heard them say.

What is the appeal of religion? What are the odds that the religion you hold, and the particular sect in which you find yourself, is the correct one? I recounted earlier that Bob and I used to marvel at this, although at that time we were convinced that we had somehow been chosen by God to be blessed in this fashion. It never occurred to us to either question such a coincidence or buy a lottery ticket, possibly because both actions would have been considered sin.

I do believe there is a spiritual void inside humanity. One into which God fits nicely. However, one must first carve and sand all the religion off him in order to make him fit. We have been trained to think that God and religion are inseparable, that you cannot have one without the other and simply must choose which religion best suits you and then follow God within the dictates of that faith.

A Christian comedian, Mark Lowry, does an amusing bit during his appearances where he calls out the names of different faiths: Baptists, Catholics, Lutherans, etc. Each group cheers as he calls out their title. At the end, he pauses and then says, “Just think. Somebody’s wrong!”

He makes an excellent point, one that can be taken a step further by saying all of them are wrong. The odds of any single group getting God right are just too small to consider. The idea that man could create a set of beliefs encapsulating God is arrogant in the extreme. Man has developed to individually seek after God and discover him in their own way, whether it be through prayer, meditation, or nature.

Religion, however, has taken God hostage and provided an oasis for people unwilling to take responsibility for their own spiritual journeys. It provides an easy way out: “Don’t think about it.

Just believe what we believe and do what we say and you’ll be fine.”

This would obviously be appealing to people, particularly since many—perhaps most—of us have been raised to believe in eternal punishment if we mess up here on earth. Yet this is exactly the point. It is simply too easy.

This is another reason religion is so dangerous—it discourages thought and question.

Intellectualism is feared by the Church, a fear thinly masked by disdain. By disparaging individual thought they hope to discourage its use. If one begins to think for oneself the possibility exists the thinker may arrive at a conclusion at odds with the Church. This cannot be allowed.

The beliefs of the Church compose a massive jigsaw of notions and dogma, each linked and mutually dependent. The destruction of one leads to the failure of another. To question one pillar of belief puts the entire structure at risk.

By energetically encouraging its people to examine the assertions of religion, the Church feels it would, in essence, be devouring its young. Yet there is criticism to be faced when an attitude of blind faith is imposed, so often there is a surface smile when a member appears to question.

I am reminded of the day I informed a concerned church member, who had approached me about my spiritual condition, that I was searching for the Truth. This announcement was met with a knowing silence and then they said, “Well, just remember in your searching that there are some things that can’t be questioned.” Then what was the point? If certain issues are off limits, why bother approaching them at all?

There were “safe” topics to debate in my church: water baptism, whether Jesus could have sinned during the temptation of Satan, and the exact chronology of the rapture. Other topics were taboo: entire sanctification (holiness), the trinity, the ability to live without sin, the infallibility of the Bible, and many more. Upon examination, it became obvious that the Church was willing to let its members question issues that had no effect on the Church’s authority. Anything resembling a core belief had to be protected, lest a crack be discovered in its foundation.

The fact of the matter is, however, that many people seem to want to believe in what religion offers. Perhaps therein lies the secret of its success. There even seems to be an attraction to the

notion of God as angry and full of judgment. Of course, these are generally the same people who are unhappy unless they feel they have been wronged. This is referred to as the “martyr complex.” They are willing to be mistreated and live in fear as long as they are the center of attention. That is what religion teaches: “God loves you so much that he wants to hurt you.”

There is also the pride factor. With a god who demands ever more devotion, it is possible to create competition among believers, with the most deprived, humble, dedicated, and chaste Christian gaining the prize. Without a jealous god, such devotion would be pointless.

Lastly, guilt is a great motivator. If God wants you to be happy, doesn’t actually care about most of the stuff you do, and is more than happy to let you make your own choices, then a person is presented with a great deal of personal responsibility. It takes a lot of self-discipline to stay pure and devoted if you don’t have to worry about going to hell. The idea of God as merciless judge is necessary to keep people in line and working diligently.

Even with the unpleasant tendencies of religion, however, are people better off believing in religion than not, even if religion’s beliefs are faulty? It doesn’t really make people better, it just makes them sneakier about doing bad things. There are evil people in the ranks of both the religious and secular, and to my knowledge there are no statistics that indicate what percentage of murderers were also church-goers. However, it is perfectly clear that religion does not stop people from behaving poorly. Deacons have beaten their wives, Sunday School teachers have tempted their pastors, ushers have dipped into offering plates, and those in power destroy the reputations of those under them.

I certainly do not suggest that all church-goers are immoral, simply that the ranks of the religious are just as inhabited by such behavior as the secular, while the secular world contains its fair share of philanthropists. Secular people give to food banks, assist stranded motorists, visit the sick and elderly, and dedicate their lives to public service. If religion doesn’t change you, then what is the point?

I know of many people, some of whom may be reading this book, who will protest this position by pointing to their own lives, how they behaved in one way prior to belief and another after.

Assuming the change was positive, I congratulate them. But again, one cannot solely credit religion with such a turnaround. People have quit smoking without the help of the Church.

They’ve forsaken alcohol or promiscuity without a service attended or a farthing dropped into an offering plate.

A belief in religion is largely a cerebral endeavor. The power of positive thinking, while it receives more credit than it deserves, does figure into one’s ability to succeed at any given undertaking. If you whole-heartedly believe in religion and trust it will help you quit something you consider a vice, you have a much better chance of actually reaching the goal. If you want to believe your sins are forgiven and you are now on the way to heaven as a result of a prayer, you are going to feel happy.

Let’s say you grew up believing that cotton candy was the greatest thing on earth and if you could only find it, all would be right in your life. You lived for cotton candy, although you had never eaten any. Everyone around you said they had tried it and it was indeed the answer to life’s problems. The search for cotton candy consumed your life and you looked high and low, traveled the world, and spent your life’s fortune searching for the elusive treat. Then you came to me and I said I was the world’s only manufacturer of cotton candy and that if only you would buy and eat some, you would be assured of a long life. Would you not feel happier after having purchased and eaten the cotton candy? After years of searching, you had found your heart’s desire and attained longevity. In short, a belief can make you happy, even if that belief is untrue.

Conversely, a belief can make you unhappy, whether or not that same belief is accurate. I know people who believe in the teachings of the Church, but have chosen to shun them. They “know” they are going to hell, but cannot submit to religion’s authority. Their belief system is faulty, but it still makes them miserable. This explains to a large extent the idea of conviction. Simply walking away from a lifetime of teaching does not remove those ideas from your mind. They follow you everywhere, affecting your mood and mental state. Often the inner pressure becomes too much to bear and the prodigal ends up returning to the Church simply as a way to relieve the pressure and achieve peace of mind.

While religion can provide a measure of peace, it has caused at least as much conflict and strife than it has prevented. We read about the presentation of the Ten Commandments, after which the nation of Israel continued to brutally attack and destroy its enemies. Rather than solve the world’s problems, religion has given men an excuse to perform even more evil deeds: “God told me to.” It was in the name of God and religion that the Inquisition rose to power, heretics were burned, prisoners were tortured, slavery was put into practice and continued, science and its supporters were attacked and discredited, and wars were waged. Does the perceived, possibly misguided, peace of a number of people justify the rape and murder of millions of others?

As horrible as the aforementioned deeds are, they are made worse by the fact they are so often credited to God. If ever he trembles with wrath, it is not when the seeker questions the path of religion, but when religion uses his name to destroy the seeker.

Going back to an earlier discussion, we now ask, “Is religion intrinsically evil?” Is it the belief system that is faulty or is it merely the human tendency to abuse power that makes it so? I would submit that it is both. As designed, religion is too easily manipulated and has, over the years, become hopelessly corrupt. Religion in and of itself can be a cure. In the hands of mankind, it becomes a poison. Without mankind, religion’s cure is unnecessary and impossible. Therefore, by religion’s mere existence, it will by necessity become a poison.

It would be ridiculous of me to say that an idea in and of itself is evil, for an idea without the means to complete itself cannot have character. However, we have seen over the centuries that organized religion invites misuse and must therefore be viewed with grave suspicion or,

possibly, outmoded altogether in its current form. I do not mean to say that we humans have outgrown religion and that we have progressed in an evolutionary sense past the need for such trifles. I do suggest, however, that organized religion, while it may have begun as a noble experiment and served some incidental, worth-while purpose, should now give way to what Christianity has always claimed to be: a personal mode of faith.

Churches do not hold the keys to salvation or everlasting life. If there was ever a time when traditional, organized religion as we know it today served a useful and worthwhile purpose, I would submit that time has passed. We have no need of widespread control by spiritual dictators when God is directly accessible and without malevolent tendencies.

Part Three Chinks in the Armor

Chapter Nine Is the Bible Inerrant?

We previously mentioned the foundations of Christianity, one of which is the idea that the Bible is the inspired word of God. Most fundamentalists claim that scripture is inerrant. Every word, thought, and instruction is directly from God through the writers. Being the word of God, it therefore contains no errors. This teaching is closely related to the theology of inerrancy, which we will examine later.

The Bible is a brilliant piece of literature. Its passages, particularly those of the King James Version, are soaring exercises in delicate prose, while other sections—Psalms in particular—are among the finest examples of poetry ever penned. These ancient texts give us some of the first glimpses of literature, story-telling, and philo-sophy. The tales are masterpieces of form, playing out the rigorous demands of comedy and tragedy millennia before Shakespeare was even born.

The Bible gives us a fascinating look into ancient cultures: their beliefs, customs, traditions, and rites of passage. In rare form it gives us a broad view of the world as it existed then and intimate details of individual lives. Typical of early texts, it does not waste words, but makes every detail count in some way. It gets to the point, immediately engaging the reader with its forthright style.

Genesis 1:1, for example, begins with the startling line, “In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.” This is a hook of the highest order.

Throughout the story in chapter one, there is not a single verse you could omit without doing damage to the story. Now that is a skillfully written tale: taut prose, a tone of certainty, strong

verbs, and a sense of purpose. It progresses this way, each chapter building on the last in proper progression. The writer of Genesis was certainly a master story-teller. The majority of the writers whose works are included in the Bible are first class writers, no doubt many ahead of their time.

However, neither the brilliant composition that is the Bible nor its historic worth or significance proves the most contentious claim made about it: that it is the inerrant word of God. The teaching of inerrancy is top-heavy to say the least, unable to stand under the weight of its own claims.

Countless books have been written that unequivocally demonstrate that the Bible is not without error and, in fact, is riddled with them. The stories of the Old Testament are shaky, factually untenable, strongly reminiscent of legend, and burdened with bias. The New Testament wavers under the weight of conflict and inconsistency.

Of course, none of these factors prove that the Bible is not the word of God. Not many people claim that God himself personally and literally wrote the text, and a book written by human hands would certainly be prone to flaws, a defense owned by the proponents of infallibility. Then again that’s not what we’re talking about now. We’re wondering whether or not the Bible is inerrant.

The Old Testament While we will examine the origins of the Universe later in the book, I can tell you up front that it did not come into being as a result of a week-long handyman project undertaken by a restless deity. Like so many of the other stories in the Bible, the account of Creation is highly fantastical.

It holds an air of legend, a story to be told around campfires and to curious toddlers not yet ready to handle the facts of science.

The story of Creation is an image-heavy tale. It begins with an indescribable void. Although it doesn’t specifically say so, Genesis 1:1 suggests there was nothing at all in existence, except God. We know this from the phrase, “In the beginning.” To an ancient human, in a story of this magnitude, the beginning would have been just that: the beginning of everything. The verse continues, “God created the heaven and the earth.” Again, especially to an ancient mind, what else is there but heaven and earth? To the creationist, this verse is one of the strongest points in their favor. They point out that evolution cannot explain how the Big Bang happened or where the faulty matter originated. The explanations—it exploded, it evolved, or spores were brought to Earth via spaceship from another planet —all fail to explain from where the primary matter came. Their theory, creationists claim, is the only complete explanation. However, they are not quite accurate. First, let’s examine the basic tenets of the Big Bang Theory, an idea whose very name strikes dread, fear, and disgust in the hearts of Christians everywhere.

At its most basic level the Big Bang Theory contends that the Universe began billions of years ago when a small mass of high density, high temperature matter exploded in spectacular fashion.

Earth, or the mass to become known as Earth, flew through space, growing through accretion and eventually becoming a vast composite of matter, probably mostly gases. Through the massive passage of time, heat, and pressure the basic materials began to form, the heaviest of which were drawn to the center of the Earth’s mass to create its core. Without an atmosphere, Earth would have cooled quickly and as it cooled it would have hardened. Great amounts of escaping steam and gas from the crust created an atmosphere. As Earth cooled, clouds formed and rain, from water likely provided by colliding comets and other infant planets covered in ice, formed oceans. Where there’s water—and the unfathomable amount of energy that would have existed—there’s life.

The preceding explanation is exceedingly simplified and there’s much more to it than that, but this isn’t a science textbook nor am I a scientist. However, the last paragraph is just that: science.

What is it about science that fundamentalists find so threatening? The answer, of course, is that it appears to take God out of the equation, to call into question the story of Creation and with it the inerrancy of the Bible. That just will not do.

The problem with the average Christian’s take on the origin of the Universe is that it flies in the face of science. Science, while not infallible, is based on evidence, evidence gained through hypothesis, observation and experimentation, and theory. To fully accept the creation account in Genesis, one must turn a blind eye to the existing evidence. It is no wonder that so many scientists consider Christians backward and unlearned, an unfortunate assumption that is not universally accurate. Christians are not all backward and unlearned. They are, however, often blinded by their faith. Given no choice by their religion and church they must follow the dictates of tradition, even if it means denying the obvious.

As I mentioned earlier, creationists are not quite accurate when they say their theory is the only complete explanation. There is another option that is not in conflict with the idea of God and his role in the formation of the Universe. If God was intent on creating a universe, what is to stop him from creating it using a “big bang”? It’s as good a method as any and certainly removes any question as to where the necessary beginning materials originated. It also releases the Christian from having to explain why planets are continuing to form and why our Universe is rapidly expanding.

Interestingly, the story of Creation in Genesis 1 is quite similar to how scientists say the earth was formed. Let’s follow the progression: earth, water, dry land, seas, plants, sun and moon, animals, and humans. This schedule can also be largely rectified with the theory of abiogenesis and, later, evolution with only minor difficulties. For example, the Bible has plants growing prior to influence by the sun, a scientifically impossible occurrence. In further support of evolution, Genesis 1:20 states that animal life originated from the oceans, a striking similarity to the widely accepted idea that any formation of life would have begun in a water-rich environment. We can also safely dismiss the idea that the six days suggested in the chapter are to be taken literally.

They are certainly allegorical at best.

The idea that evolution is compatible with the existence of a god is now considered theistic evolution. It combines the conviction of a higher power with the best evidence of science. It combines the heart and the mind, allowing one to enjoy faith while not checking their brain at the door. The fact remains that if God exists he almost certainly had a hand in the beginnings of the Universe. The fact also remains that the demonstrations of science have shown us the likely formation of our world, or at least our best guess. If God exists and science is right, then God must have had a hand in science.

The traditional story of Creation is without a doubt an ancient storyteller’s way of explaining the world’s establishment to his tribesmen or young children. A legend passed down from generation to generation until someone thought, and had the tools, to write it down.

What is strange about the Genesis story is that it seems to be two accounts of the same event, written by two different people. The first account goes from Genesis 1:1-2:3 and follows a very orderly, precise pattern. Then in 2:4 there is a jarring departure in style and method in which the author begins recounting the tale in truncated fashion, talking wildly about plants, herbs, and rain. He also retells the creation of humanity, this time in more detail, telling us it was made of dust and God’s breath. In the first telling, male and female were created together on the sixth day. In the second God makes the male alone and then proceeds to fashion the animals out of the ground, not the ocean, as the first story claims. Then God brings all these animals to Adam, who suddenly and inexplicably has a name, and demands that he title them. Maybe it’s just me, but it seems that an omniscient god would be better suited to name a countless horde of animals than would a mere man.

In the second account, it isn’t until an unspecified time later that God decides to create a female and he does so by unceremoniously yanking a rib from Adam’s side and using it to fashion Eve. This story drips with tradition and cultural fantasy. In early culture, and not so long ago in this country, women were expected to be subject to men. What better way to enforce this than by saying God created it that way? In any event, there we have poor Adam, lying naked on his wedding night with his new companion, only to be laid up with a serious injury. After all, who feels like a romp in the hay just after a major operation?

It’s quite obvious that the story has been told and retold from the perspective of someone steeped in their own culture and recounting the legends of the elders. In 2:24 Adam gives an impromptu speech to his new bride, predicting that from now on man shall “leave his father and mother, and shall cleave unto his wife.” This begs the question of how Adam knew about the concept of parenthood. Adam and Eve wouldn’t even couple until the beginning of chapter four. Obviously, the writer was assuming knowledge he knew, but that Adam wouldn’t have. Unless, of course, God had already had a talk with Adam concerning the birds and the bees.

In short, the first story of Creation is wildly improbable, the second is different in style and contradicts the first, and both have all the hallmarks of legend. It is clear that the writer(s) of the

story never intended anyone to take the tale literally. If it was an exact documentation of events, the chronology would be clearer, there would be only one account, and the facts would be more convincing. Even believers admit that it’s a fantastic story, so someone putting the story down on paper would have taken pains to close up the holes and presented more proof had they intended it to be interpreted literally.

The story of Creation is not the only section in the Bible to have two treatments and an obvious bias to the prevailing culture. The tale of Noah’s ark is also guilty of these transgressions.

Genesis 6:19 has God commanding Noah to take two of every animal, while 7:2-3 says, “Of every clean beast thou shalt take to thee by sevens…and of beasts that are not clean by two…”

Did God change his mind or simply have further instructions?

Again, it appears there are two different writers, one with a more cultural bent, since the laws regarding “clean and unclean” animals had not yet been devised in Noah’s time. If God had started talking to Noah about clean and unclean animals, Noah would have raised his hand and said, “Hold on a minute! How do I know which is which?” It is clear that whoever wrote the second, contradictory account of Noah’s ark was simply trying to bolster the authority of the Law. Can a text riddled with the ulterior motives of man be considered completely trustworthy and inerrant?

There are other problems with the story of Noah’s ark, not the least of which is where all the water went afterward. The Bible plainly says that the flood covered the “highest mountains” (Genesis 7:19-20) with cubits to spare. It also says that this amount of water accumulated in not much over a month. If the highest point on earth is Mt. Everest at 29,000 feet, then the water would have had to accumulate at a rate of 30 feet per hour to reach the desired depth in that given time. This is an absurd number. Admittedly, the Bible does not always mean twenty-four hours when it says “day,” but in this case the terms are so specific (forty days, forty nights) that we can be quite certain it’s talking about a single earthly rotation. The specificity of the story also begs the question of how the author knew the exact depth. Did Noah dive over the side each day and swim to the bottom, measuring stick in hand? Did he take soundings, much like a riverboat on the Mississippi?

It’s also impossible that all the animals on earth (whether it be two or seven) would have fit on the ark together. If they had been crammed in somehow, the living conditions would have been so untenable that most of the animals would have died during the voyage, destroying the whole point of bringing them along in the first place. Even if the boat had been large enough it would have been too massive to support its own bulk, given the technology of the day and the available building materials.

Here again, we only have these problems if we take the story literally. It is not meant to be so. To understand how these stories happen, one has to understand the ancient mind and their method of communication. Their methods of preserving history were based largely on the spoken word and

folklore. Folklore (sometimes called “tall tales” in this country) are legends, sometimes loosely based on fact, that exaggerate the details and make everything bigger, brighter, and more exciting than it really was. This was done partially as a way of making it interesting to the listeners, so they would remember it and pass it on, thereby preserving the history of that specific culture. As the stories were repeated the tales grew larger, until at last someone decided to write them down. Once a story is written it is much less susceptible to change. This is undoubtedly what happened with Noah’s ark and the other stories of the Old Testament. Only in this case, the stories became holy and “inerrant.”

Let’s examine another option for Noah’s ark that might explain this concept a bit further. First of all, Genesis is not the first book to record a Noah story. Both the Sumerians and the Babylonians have very similar stories that predate the biblical version. It is quite likely that the man known to us as Noah was a merchant, possibly wealthy, who lived and traded along the rich waterways of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Although the rivers flood each summer, there is archaeological evidence that suggests a greater than usual flood about 2900 BC. Such a flood could have destroyed cities, property, people, animals, and everything else Noah knew. Being a wealthy merchant, he could have owned a boat strong enough to withstand the flood and large enough to carry his family and animals. Floating on a vast expanse of water, with no end in sight and complete destruction everywhere, it is not unthinkable that Noah would believe the entire world was destroyed. In fact, his entire world had been destroyed. One can easily see how this story, fascinating in itself, could change over generations into the fantastical story of Noah and the ark.

Another example of biblical error may be the story of David and Goliath. I Samuel 17:50 says David prevailed over Goliath. But the next book over, in II Samuel 21:19, we read, “Elhanan… slew the brother of Goliath the Gittite…” So what, you say? Well, in the King James Version the words “the brother of” are in italics, a style which the translators used to indicate words and phrases that were not in the original text. They added them in to “fix” the conflict. To further add to the confusion, in I Chronicles 20:5 it states, “Elhanan …slew Lahmi the brother of Goliath the Gittite…” So who killed whom?

Everyone knows David killed Goliath, right? However, II Samuel says Elhanan did, while I Chronicles says Elhanan killed Lahmi. Evidence points to a clerical error, in which a scribe missed the words “the brother of” in the II Samuel version, making King James’ translators correct it by adding the words back in. However, it doesn’t matter. The point is that it is an error.

Inerrant literally means “free of error.” If God inspired the text, would he not have been capable of protecting it?

In short, the stories in the Old Testament are just stories. They may point to larger life lessons and we may be able to learn from them, but they are not literally true and I doubt many of the original recorders of said stories even believed themselves or ever thought a religion would be partially built around them. If they had known, they no doubt would have taken greater care, for

some of the recorded happenings in the Old Testament are downright scary and evil. What is worse, many of them are attributed directly to God himself.

Fundamentalists say God doesn’t change, but he obviously does, since the Old Testament has him telling his people to kill innocent men, mothers, and children, while keeping the young women alive for other “uses.” (Numbers 31:17-18) Today such actions are widely considered evil. There are numerous other commands from God in the Old Testament telling his chosen people to kill, destroy, murder, rape, pillage, and annihilate other cultures, not all of which were even at war with the Jews at the time.

This is the single greatest example of why the Bible was written by human hands and conjured by human minds. Not only does the text conform to the mindset of the day, but it fits much too conveniently with the desires and actions of the people who wrote it. Much like radical Christians throughout history have used the Bible to condone or even support their evil actions, so the original writers used the notion that they were God’s chosen people to excuse their reckless behavior. They didn’t simply say that God was okay with what they were doing, they claimed that he told them to do it. I find the idea simply appalling, evil, and disgusting.

Imagine I performed a long string of evil deeds: raping, murdering, robbing, and otherwise making a societal nuisance of myself. Eventually, I would be caught, jailed, and hauled before a judge. Now imagine I had ample time in my holding cell to write copiously and upon arriving at court presented the judge with a great missive, which detailed why my preceding activity was okay.

“That’s my bible,” I say. “As you can see from the text, (which by the way was inspired by God himself) I had no choice and therefore all my evil deeds are essentially righteous and proper.”

If the evidence against me had previously been sketchy, this testimony would seal my fate, because any reasonable jury member and judge would know they were in the presence of a lunatic and an extremely dangerous one at that.

This is what Christians are expected to accept and defend on a daily basis. With such a tall order before them, it’s a wonder the religion ever got off the ground, let alone circled the globe.

We probably don’t even need to mention that the Ten Commandments specifically bans killing —which is ridiculous in itself, since it is a commandment that goes without saying. Although maybe not, considering the bloodthirsty nature of the people to whom the Commandments were supposedly directly given.

Of course, the Commandments pose problems of their own. They mention murder, but not slavery, which may be the greater transgression. In both instances you take a life. But here again we have the convenience of the times influencing a purportedly divine decree. Had God declared slavery to be a sin, it would have put his people in a bind, much the same as plantation owners in

antebellum Southern states feared losing their free labor and therefore a good portion of their profits. Apparently, right is only right when it meets the needs of those making the rules.

Not only is slavery not condemned, it is actually condoned. In Exodus 21:7, we have the line, “And if a man sell his daughter to be a maidservant, she shall not go out as the menservants do.”

Apparently, it’s okay to sell your daughter to make a profit, as long as you make sure she doesn’t do the same work as the men. These laws are simply too absurd to have been concocted by God. He would have done a much finer job of outlining a cultured people dedicated to peace and stability. The set of laws found in Exodus is nothing more than the governing text of a primitive tribe. In that respect, they deserve some credit, but as a decree from the Almighty, they simply do not measure up.

I have heard arguments from fundamentalists who claim that the reason slavery is not mentioned (except for a definition of terms in Exodus 21:2-6) and other outrages go unchecked is because of the culture of the day. They essentially make the same point as do I, albeit unwittingly. God is not bound by the standards of an age. God is not restricted by the expectations of man. God is not to be held accountable for the words and deeds reported in a book ascribed to him, but which holds no authority to define him.

As an aside, this also makes a suitable rebuttal to those secularists who use the Bible to discredit God. It would be much the same as if one tried to use the dictionary to prove the definition of a word to someone who did not recognize the authority of the dictionary. It would hold no power over him. In the same way, how can God be disproved by a book he had nothing to do with? If God did not inspire or “write” the Bible, then how can his opponents use it to discredit him? If those same opponents choose to recognize the authority of the Bible in order to lambaste God, then they would do well to live according to its dictates or suffer the coming punishment it foretells.

The New Testament The Old Testament is not alone in its problems, although it is far more outrageous than its biblical cousin, the New Testament. Yet there are troubles there as well, instances that suggest error and alternatives that are fascinating to consider.

The Garden of Gethsemane story suggests such errors. While Matthew, Mark, and Luke recount the story in fairly similar terms, they relate that the disciples who accompanied Jesus into the inner garden fell asleep while Jesus prayed. They also say that he walked a distance away from them before praying, but they all recount the words of the prayer, apparently heard at a distance and while sleeping.

Additionally, Luke recounts the appearance of an angel that gave strength to Jesus, while the others fail to mention this memorable occurrence. The Gospel of John does not recount the prayer in the garden at all, he possibly being the most honest of the four, since he was reported to have been one of those sleeping and therefore wouldn’t have been able to do so. Of course, there are as many similarities in the story as not and to be fair one must recognize this. The actual words of Jesus’ prayer, for example, are strikingly similar, “Father, let this cup pass from me.”

For this reason, the stories must be given some credibility, as a historical narrative. But one also must recognize that the presence of error and inaccuracy inevitably raises questions concerning the Bible’s inerrancy and, as a result, its inspiration.

Judas Iscariot, long-reviled by most for his part in betraying Jesus, “the man who betrayed Christ with a kiss,” has others who suggest that Judas was someone quite different from the moneygrubbing turncoat he is depicted by the Gospel writers. He even has his own gospel, aptly titled the Gospel of Judas, which paints a much different picture. In it, Judas is reputed to have been Jesus’ closest confidant among the disciples and that the garden kiss and betrayal was actually a planned fulfillment of Jesus’ own command to him. The story goes that the other disciples were actually quite jealous of Judas and it is possible they conspired later in their own gospels to discredit him by making him the scapegoat for the torture and death of Jesus.

Reading through the Gospels, it is certainly obvious that the writers are eager to make sure everyone knows Judas is the bad guy. Matthew 10:4 says, “Simon the Canaanite, and Judas Iscariot, who also betrayed him.” 26:25, “Then Judas, which betrayed him…” 27:3, “Then Judas, which had betrayed him…” Mark 3:19, “And Judas Iscariot, which also betrayed him…” Luke 6:16, “…and Judas Iscariot, which also was the traitor.” 22:3, “Then entered Satan into Judas surnamed Iscariot…” John 6:71, “He spake of Judas Iscariot the son of Simon: for he it was that should betray him…” 12:4, “Then saith one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, which should betray him…” 13:2, “And supper being ended, the devil having now put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him.”

It is obvious the writers are dead-set on not only relating the story, but also of dropping in numerous plot spoilers for the reader in seemingly gleeful fashion. Almost as if they’re saying, “This guy’s a real jerk and I can’t wait for you to find out for yourself, so I’m going to tell you now just to make sure you don’t miss it.”

It’s a strange pattern and one worthy of question. Of course, it could be argued that the disciples were simply so disgusted by Judas’ behavior that they couldn’t keep their minds on anything else, but this is highly unlikely. This was years after the actual events and surely cooler heads would have prevailed, unless there actually was a conspiracy to saddle Judas with the blame.

It’s also interesting to note that Judas is hardly mentioned at all in the Gospels, other than either the predictions of his skullduggery or the actual telling of it. One almost assumes from the story that Judas did nothing else in his life except betray his closest friend. But surely even a man of

such low caliber did something good: defended a child, fed a kitten, or helped an old lady across a busy thoroughfare. Yet nothing is mentioned. This is typical of those who wish to ruin a reputation: focus on the bad and minimize or eliminate the good. John does record an instance where Judas supposedly confronted Jesus on a decision he considered foolhardy and the account ends with Jesus rebuking the upstart disciple.

Examining one portion of related scripture, John 13, we read the account of the Last Supper.

Jesus announces that someone close will betray him and the disciples all begin asking, “Is it I?” Jesus says that whoever receives the sop is the guilty party. Jesus dips the sop and hands it to Judas, saying, “That thou doest, do quickly.” (13:27) Amazingly, as John writes, “Now no man at the table knew for what intent he spake this unto him.” (13:28) Let’s go back over that.

The disciples had been intensely interested in the identity of the traitor and Jesus says that whoever receives the sop is the one. He gives the sop to Judas and then, in case there are any questions, tells Judas to go and do the deed. And still the disciples don’t understand. If Judas was indeed the favorite, there is little doubt why. He was obviously the only one with any real sense about him at all. In his Commentary on the Whole Bible, commentator Matthew Henry suggests that this lapse is excusable because the disciples “were so well taught to love one another that they could not easily learn to suspect one another.” But I would point out that even the biased Gospels contain clear examples that illustrate how the disciples failed time and time again to grasp the subtleties of Jesus’ teachings, even driving a man such as Jesus to the point of anger and frustration.

It’s also curious that John makes a point to say, “Now no man at the table knew…” This sounds defensive in tone. Is it possible the disciples did know of the intent and this is John’s excuse as to why they did not attempt to stop Judas from carrying out his task? Is it possible they knew Jesus had commissioned Judas to do the honors and were jealous over this as well? Jealousy does seem a viable option, as Judas was almost certainly favored by Jesus due to the recorded fact in John 13:29 that says, “…because Judas had the bag…” The “bag” was presumably the group’s treasury, a presumption made from the fact that the disciples thought Judas had left to buy something. The keeper of the money was obviously highly trusted by Jesus and this could be yet another reason why Judas would have garnered the jealousy of his peers.

There is another interesting aspect to the story of Judas in the New Testament and that is the mystery of his death. Matthew 27 claims that he was ridden with guilt and tried to return the bribe given to him by the chief priests. They refused to accept it and so Judas flung the silver to the ground, ran out, and hanged himself. (27:5) This is the accepted version, the one most people assume to be true. However, not everyone knows that the Bible contains another, completely different end to Judas.

Acts 1:18 claims that Judas did not return the money at all, but instead purchased a field and then promptly fell down and “all his bowels gushed out.” Now, wait a minute. Did Judas return the

money or not? Did he buy the field or not? Did he hang himself or trip over a stone and lose his bowels? Again, it seems as if the Gospel writers (Luke is also traditionally considered to have authored the book of Acts) are spinning tales and probably should have consulted one another beforehand.

As mentioned, it is possible that instead of acting on his own (or with the help of Satan) Judas was simply carrying out Jesus’ own wishes. The Gospel of Judas, although its reliability has been challenged, suggests this. It shows Jesus as having Gnostic tendencies, believing that the physical body is only an impediment to complete understanding. It also suggests that Judas was the only disciple to truly understand the Gnostic teachings of Jesus. At one point Jesus says to Judas, “Step away from the others and I shall tell you the mysteries of the kingdom.” More reason for jealousy? According to this, Judas was definitely the favored and most advanced disciple.

Of course, there is no proof that the Gospel of Judas is any more accurate than the existing Gospels. In fact, it may have been written even later after the fact, penned by a Gnostic no later than 200 AD. On the other hand, if Judas was indeed only following Jesus’ dictates, then he certainly does not deserve the scorn and hatred he has received over the millennia since Jesus’ death. And even if he did betray his lord and Christians are right that Jesus’ death brought salvation, Judas should be thanked for bringing it to pass. Without his supposed underhandedness, the forgiveness of sins might never have been possible.

My church believed in the Bible as being inspired by God, holy and inerrant, and above criticism or suspicion. If it was in a stack of other books, it had to be on top. It was to be mentioned reverently and read from daily. The Bible was the cornerstone of the belief system and not much (if any) thought was given to its accuracy or reliability. Both of these were assumed to be facts.

What the Church refuses to recognize is the obvious failure of the Bible to maintain consistency throughout the text. The Gospels are full of such errors, as different writers recount the same stories with often incompatible results. If anyone dared mention this they were immediately hushed or talked down by some tired line about the failure of humanity to properly chronicle the words of God. Of course, this is a salient point: man did indeed write the Bible. And not with the intention of making the Bible, I might add. The ancient texts were penned many years after the events they report and nailed together even later by individuals even further removed. They were then translated countless times by various scribes, many lost to history. Fundamentalists cite this as miraculous and, incredibly, even as proof that the Bible is inspired by God. “After all,” they say, “how else to explain its having gone through all that and emerging perfect and inerrant?”

I would ask that they not insult God in such a fashion. To saddle him with the blame for putting together such a collection of contradictory accounts and implausible tales is most unfair. God would have done a better job. If God actually inspired or even “wrote” the Bible, there would be

no discussion. We would know its origin and no thinking man would be able to suggest otherwise.

Chapter Ten Is the Bible Infallible?

There have been Christians who have seen the contradictions in the Bible and recognized the problem. But they have devised a typically shoddy explanation for it. They reason that although God did indeed “inspire” the text, it was penned by man. Therefore we cannot be surprised if there are mistakes. After all, man is not faultless or perfect. Interestingly, they only use this excuse in the obviously erroneous passages and refuse to consider that the same logic can be used to confront any scriptural passage. If a human writer mistakenly recounted the account of Gethsemane, could he not just as easily fabricate any other part of the story? If the Old Testament was written by a human author who went beyond the divine and included defunct ancient rituals that hold no meaning in modern society, who is to say what is actually relevant to our day and age? Someone has to make that decision and the Church has appointed itself such a cleric.

There are many problems with the Bible that call into question the idea of infallibility. As we’ve seen, there are numerous contradictions and errors. Some of these faulty passages contradict other passages. Which are we supposed to accept? It would be one thing if the Bible was wholly consistent and only contained a few errors of translation or a missing period or two. However, it goes far beyond that.

There are issues to be addressed if one wishes to accept the idea of infallibility. For example, the authorship of the books is entirely up for debate. Tradition has assigned authorship to some, while others contain such claims in the text. Some are accurate, some are questionable, and some are simply wrong. If a book written anonymously or even, as author Bart Ehrman says, “forged,” than how can we take it seriously? What authority do the writings have?

Ehrman, the author of Forged, makes several good points in the book. First of all, the Gospels themselves do not claim authorship, along with Acts and John 1, 2, and 3. It was assigned later by authorities with no connection to the text. There was great division among early Church leaders regarding sacred texts. Some books that almost made it into the canon were eventually left out and others narrowly made it in. For example, Ehrman mentions the book of Jude, which refers to the book of Enoch as containing the authority of scripture. As we all know, the book of Enoch did not end up making it into the Bible, while the book of Jude did.

One of the most striking points Ehrman makes is that it is highly likely that many of the disciples were illiterate. The Apostle Peter, for example, is supposed to have written 1 and 2 Peter. The books themselves claim this authorship. Peter, however, was a lowly fisherman from the tiny rural town of Bethsaida. Unlike today, ancient society was not overly concerned with the formal education of its people. Most did not need to know how to read and write in order to perform their daily work. A fisherman in Peter’s day would likely not have needed or possessed either skill. It was only those in higher society who were schooled enough to become literate. An illiterate fisherman would not have had the ability to write his name, much less formulate a religious treatise on the level of the biblical books ascribed to him.

The Gospels themselves are rife with contradictions, so much so that they compromise their own authority. In fact, we do not have any of the original texts of these books, only copies made many years later. Even the copies themselves are contradictory, clear evidence that the Gospels we have today have been altered and compromised.

Some supporters say that the fact we don’t have the originals is a good thing, since it is very likely that the Gospels were rewritten and this was when the errors and contradictions came about. While clever, this explanation is something of a stretch. Even if it is true, it really doesn’t change the fact that all four Gospels are included in a book that is considered holy and infallible, and that we are reading inaccurate, factually compromised works.

There are examples in the Apostle Paul’s writings that are strikingly contradictory. For example, in one area he writes that women should be silent in church (1 Corinthians 14:34-35) and in another he states that they should be allowed to speak (pray and prophesy) as long as they cover their heads (1 Corinthians 11:5-6). The two statements are clearly in conflict.

There are some who contend that one book was written by Paul and the other was not, thus explaining the discrepancy. This, however, defeats the idea of biblical infallibility. If the Bible contains false teachings in a book written by an imposter, then all other writings are up for debate. It is a slippery slope, one that leads defenders of scripture into a tight little corner.

Ultimately, they must accept all of the Bible or none of it. To begin picking and choosing illustrates the fact that the Bible is the flawed work of men’s hands and presents problems beyond the debate of inerrancy. An infallible book would be wholly consistent with its own teachings, would contain only works by truly inspired authors, would contain only works by established author figures, and be able to withstand the scrutiny of modern historians.

Fundamentalists cannot allow any question concerning the Bible’s supremacy. To do so, in their minds, would destroy the foundation of their belief. Therefore, any opposition must be stamped out, branded heretical, and discredited through a condemnation to hell. This is typical of religions throughout history, really, but particularly sad of one which claims to be man’s only hope.

In one sense, this explains the Christian’s zeal to spread their faith. In another, it doesn’t make sense to demand conversion, refusal of which will mean death and torture (in earlier days) or social destruction (more recent times). They give one no options but to either conform or flee. It is a clever way of keeping the ranks free of anyone who might challenge the basics of the faith.

Honest opposition is forced out and those who keep their questions silent for a while, under the pretense of conformity, and eventually come forth are correctly branded as hypocrites, effectively ruining their own believability.

As we have seen, the Bible cannot be trusted blindly or its words used unquestioningly to direct people’s lives. Jeremiah himself warns against taking the writings too seriously. In Jeremiah 8:8, the prophet says, “How do ye say, We are wise, and the law of the LORD is with us? Lo, certainly in vain made he it; the pen of the scribes is in vain.” In other words, “Hey, people are human and they make mistakes. They put in stuff they want and take out stuff they don’t. We can’t use a bunch of text to guide our every move.”

God himself, in Ezekiel 20:25 says, “Wherefore I gave them also statutes that were not good, and judgments whereby they should not live…” In context it sounds as if God is simply messing with the heads of his stubborn chosen people. Yet even if he wasn’t serious about these laws, how do we know which ones to continue following and which to ignore on the basis that they were simply bad jokes? On the other hand, giving bogus commandments just for the sport of it doesn’t really sound like the actions of an omnipotent God. More likely the passage itself is flawed.

In the face of the litany of errors and flaws, many biblical apologists give up the position of inerrancy and retreat to the slightly elevated ground of infallibility. They say that the presence of errors does not change the inspired quality of the Bible, nor its ability to guide a person’s life.

“Humans wrote it, so of course it has errors,” they say, “but that doesn’t mean it isn’t the inspired word of God.” Using basic tools of logic, the odds that the Bible was intentionally collected by God through the spiritual manipulation of men throughout centuries are simply too miniscule to be honestly considered. Interestingly, creationists attempt to refute evolution with this same logic, i.e. what are the odds that all we know would just “happen”? While I see their point, the same line of reasoning could be applied to a belief in scripture. Otherwise, if you are going to accept the idea of biblical inspiration, you might as well accept the idea of theistic evolution, as well. Let’s look at the problem of the Bible being the actual inspired word of God. Many of us already know a lot of the facts we mentioned earlier: the books of the Bible were written over a vast span of years by dozens of authors, most of whom did not know each other.

The original texts do not survive and we are therefore left with only copies. We cannot know exactly what the originals actually contained, since it has been shown by scholars that alterations and errors among the copies themselves are common. It was then decided by Church leaders that a holy book was needed, so a council was gathered to decide which of the many texts to include.

There was much contention in the council regarding some of the books. Some books almost made it in, others almost didn’t. The Bible was created and presented to the world as the inspired word of God. While this is an extremely abridged version of events, it shows the basic process. It also illustrates what we are dealing with in terms of biblical inspiration. Not only do we not know what the original documents actually said, but we often don’t even know for sure who wrote the originals. Some claims of authorship have been shown by scholars to be completely false.

Therefore, several purportedly divine texts are themselves based on lies. Could an inspired, infallible Bible be guilty of violating one of its own commandments?

Not only this, but the teachings of the Bible are sometimes at odds with each other. For a book that is supposed to show the world how to live, should it not be consistent in its teaching?

Otherwise, which direction are we supposed to accept? There are other teachings that nobody in the modern Christian world follows, teachings that are considered culturally defunct. How are we supposed to know which teachings are still relevant and which are not? By what is currently convenient? That doesn’t sound like a solid standard for living, either. Suppose food in our culture became so expensive that purchasing it was no longer a viable option for many people.

Would that mean we would be justified in stealing it?

We talked at length in the previous section about the errors and contradictions in the text. The short summary I provided there barely even touches on the subject of biblical error. Entire books have been written on the subject. We have shown beyond a doubt that the Bible is not inerrant. I believe this fact is one of the greatest arguments against infallibility as well. If the Bible cannot be trusted in all things, can it be trusted in anything? Who is to decide which things to trust and which to dismiss?

As an example, let’s say that an employee has been entrusted with delivering the payroll to the local bank. Over a period of six months, he has successfully completed his task 50% of the time.

The other payrolls have mysteriously disappeared, gotten lost or stolen. What are the odds that employee would still be delivering the payroll for the next six months or even still employed by the company? For a task as important as delivering the workers’ hard-earned money so they can feed their families, no mistakes are permissible. How much more so when we are discussing a book that is supposed to govern people’s lives and get them into a place called heaven?

If a friend lies to you half of the time, it isn’t going to matter if he tells you the truth the other half. You’re never going to believe him, because the odds are pretty good that he is lying. Why allow him to make a fool out of you? Better to err on the side of caution.

It is conventional wisdom that it is impossible to prove a negative. Therefore believers would say it is impossible to prove that the Bible is not inspired. The first response would be that, given

their claims, the onus of proof is on them. Secondly, as with much conventional wisdom, the statement of improvable negatives is absolutely false. One can often prove a negative just as easily as a positive, simply by turning the question back on itself.

For example, assume the question of our own existence can be positively proven, at least to our own satisfaction. Therefore, we can also prove that we do not not exist. The statements are virtually identical, but one is a positive and one is a negative. So while one may say that the inspiration of the Bible cannot be disproved, nor can it be not not disproved. It’s merely a transition in terms.

Additionally, proving a positive often requires the same process as proving a negative. If I say I can prove that a cigar will not light itself and I demonstrate by holding it between my teeth for an hour and then announce my point is proven, you may say that I have not proven anything, because had I waited two hours, it might have started smoking. However, we are now entering the territory of logical assumption, which is a vital part of any theory or assertion. The same technique is used to prove any positive. Let’s say we dropped raw eggs on concrete from several feet in the air and observed them all crack open. We would then say we had proven a positive: raw eggs always crack open when dropped onto concrete from several feet in the air. However, unless we drop all the raw eggs in the world onto concrete, can we really know for sure? We can, because we legitimately make a logical assumption based on the existing evidence.

Therefore the idea of improvable negatives is unsound. Why then do people continue to hold to this view? Partly because it is “common know-ledge” and they simply haven’t considered it, but largely because it allows them to continue believing in whatever they wish regardless of the evidence against it: “You can’t prove I’m wrong.” Perhaps not unequivocally, but 1.) neither can you prove you’re right and 2.) we can show you a mountain of evidence that opposes your idea.

Proof is a tricky thing and, unfortunately, is often based on what evidence an individual wishes to accept.

With all these things in mind, it can be demonstrably shown that the idea of an inspired ancient text is not a decent gamble. If the Bible is not inerrant (which it clearly is not) then the idea of infallibility is highly suspect, given the fact that its teachings cannot be trusted. If it is not infallible, then the idea of its inspiration is a moot point. Even if God inspired a shaky, errorridden, instructionally contradictory book, how are we supposed to follow it and what would this say about God himself?

The Bible is a priceless collection of ancient writings, beautiful in composition and interesting in content. Many passages contain life lessons that can be used to better our own modern lives. Its directives concerning morality are to be commended and if everyone in the world followed the basic teachings of Jesus, the world would be a better place. The Bible gives us all this and more.

It is a powerful book, but the inerrant, infallible word of God it is not.

Chapter Eleven What About Jesus?

The idea of Jesus is a worldwide phenomenon. Christianity is based on the idea that he was the son of God and assumed a physical body in order to deliver salvation to a human race doomed through a sinful rejection of righteousness. They make the claim that he died a horrible death and subsequently rose from the dead in a final triumph over evil. Yet there are other viewpoints on the man Jesus. Some people consider him an ancient teacher who taught wisely and promoted social equality, but was not God in the flesh. Others call into question the historicity of his existence or flatly deny there ever was such a man.

A 2009 Rasmussen national survey found that 88% of adults believe that Jesus was a historical figure and walked the earth 2,000 years ago, while 79% believe he rose from the dead. A Harris poll conducted in late 2007 reports that 72% of respondents believe that Jesus was the son of God. An older 2002 Gallup poll, however, showed that 8 out of 10 people believed Jesus was the son of God, but were fairly evenly split on whether that meant Jesus was literally God’s son or merely a man divinely chosen to “reveal God’s purpose in the world.” Even modern historians do not agree on Jesus’ existence, although the percentages are lower than the beliefs of average Americans.

While the numbers are impressive, evidence is still necessary when building a case for or against the mere existence of Jesus. If there is no evidence for even a physical existence then there is obviously no reason to believe he did. If he did not exist, then the idea of his being the son of God is an unnecessary point. If, however, he did exist in physical form then one must also address the various other claims surrounding his deeds and purpose through the prism of varying methods and viewpoints.

Did Jesus Exist?

Proving the existence of a sketchy historical figure is always difficult and the farther back in time one goes the more difficult the task becomes. There are, however, places to look when considering the question.

There were historians of the time who mention Jesus. Not all of these were friendly to the idea of Christianity, an evolving religion based around the man about whom they were writing. Tacitus, a Roman, non-Christian historian makes brief mention of “Christ,” a man put to death by Pontius Pilate. The validity of the writings of Tacitus have been called into question and it is worth mentioning that the Gospels are popularly believed to have been written prior to the histories of Tacitus and therefore it is possible that he used these writings as source material.

Jewish historian Josephus, in passages from his Antiquities of the Jews, mentions Jesus twice, although the two are somewhat in conflict. The first summarizes the story of Jesus and states, “He was the Christ,” a somewhat surprising assertion by a man who was both a Jew and Roman citizen. The other reference is much more believable and mentions James as being “the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ.” The first passage is believed by some to have been altered by a scribe at some point throughout its perpetuation and translation.

There are other examples of historical documents and references that either reference Jesus directly, or other early figures that may be Jesus but do not name him directly. Other early documents deny his divinity, but do not attempt to disprove his existence. Celsus, for example, wrote an anti-Christianity book in approximately 180 AD. In the book he chooses to discredit the deeds of Jesus, but does not deny his existence.

Muslims believe in the existence of Jesus and consider him a great teacher, although they obviously deny his divinity. Many Jewish theologians, who have nothing to gain by Jesus’ existence, consider him a rabbi of the day.

For all their controversy and incredible claims, the Gospels cannot be entirely dismissed. While they may not be worthy of wholesale acceptance, they were written anywhere from 7-120 years after the traditional death of Jesus. Depending on the exact dates of the writings, there would have been people still living who came into contact with both Jesus and the writers of the accounts. Had the basic claims of Jesus’ existence been completely inaccurate, it would seem there would be more documents and writings from that time period that specifically dispute the claims by citing personal experience.

All told, there is no definitive proof that Jesus existed. However, the simple fact of the matter is that one cannot prove that Jesus did not exist and yet there is evidence, although by no means ironclad, that he was an actual man who walked the earth during the approximate time put forth by the suggestion of the Gospels.

The mere fact there is evidence that Jesus existed puts the burden of proof squarely upon the skeptics. It is interesting that those most vaunted to demand evidence to believe choose to accept the opposite and deny the existence of a mere historical figure, particularly since a belief in the existence of Jesus does not equate to acceptance of him as savior of the world. Based on existing evidence, it is my belief that we can accept the available evidence and legitimately assume that Jesus did exist in human form.

Was Jesus the Son of God? The idea of Jesus as the son of God is the basis for Christianity. Without that fundamental belief the religion cannot claim to be any better than any other. They claim that Jesus is the way to

salvation, that the way to heaven is only through him, and that one must believe on him as the son of God and accept all the baggage that comes with it, i.e. his death and resurrection, in order to benefit from the promise of eternal life. The prevailing belief that this must be the case is because it is a cornerstone of the faith system and it is widely felt that to have any attack on it would jeopardize the entire Christian belief structure. Simply mention to any believer that Jesus may not have been the son of God and see what sort of reaction you get.

The death and resurrection is what allows Christians to feel superior. Other religions have prophets similar to Jesus with one major exception: they don’t claim to have risen from the dead.

From the Christian’s point of view, what good is a god who is subject to the same restrictions as humans? What they fail to understand is that it may be possible to reconcile all these viewpoints and that Christianity, Buddhism, and Hinduism may not be as far apart as fundamentalists like to think.

But that is a topic for further consideration later in the chapter. For now, let us examine the question at hand: is Jesus the son of God? To answer this question, we must consider what the son of God would be capable of doing, what he would be willing to do under the given circumstances in the culture in which he found himself, and what the Gospels purport to have him doing.

It is clear that he has been credited with doing a great many good deeds. There are many reports of miracles, for example. Yet, would the son of God be satisfied with performing a few magic tricks throughout a tiny parcel of land known as Judea? I don’t believe a god would be that small-minded. For example, those in that region may not have understood that there was an entire world out there ripe for the saving, but God—the same God who purportedly sent his son to die—would certainly have known. Why would he have chosen to appear to that group of people alone? Did he perform the same routine for every remote tribe and civilization around the globe? We know he did not or there would be record of it.

If Jesus was the son of God sent to personally deliver salvation, it was extremely selective.

Meanwhile, anyone who died around the globe for the next two thousand years was doomed to hell because they had not been fortunate enough to live within the sphere of the Gospel.

Traditionally, the answer for the question has been that Jesus had appeared to the Jews because they were the chosen people of God and for some odd reason, given their historically consistent rejection of him and his precepts, he was still choosing to present them with this eternal gift.

This explanation is damning in and of itself, because it perpetuates the perverted message of the Old Testament, which is death to non-Jews and the idea that God will sanction or even dictate the slaughter of innocent people and the destruction of entire civilizations in deference to another. This is not the message presented by Jesus and yet Christians use this same theme to explain his appearance to the Jewish nation. This is evidence, circumstantial though it may be,

that Jesus may not have been the literal son of God, but the son of God in a figurative sense, having reached a heightened state of enlightenment.

The Gnostics were a group of people around the time of Jesus who believed that the way to salvation was a rejection of the human flesh. They believed one could transcend the physical body and that salvation was achieved through relational and experiential knowledge. Not works and belief, but knowledge and enlightenment. For example, instead of a release from or forgiveness for sin, Gnosticism taught an increase in knowledge (enlightenment), the lack of which is responsible for sin itself.

There are some who believe Jesus himself was a Gnostic or at least held some Gnostic beliefs.

Some Gnostic sects believe Jesus was Gnosticism incarnate, the ultimate example. Others consider him a fraud and someone who perverted the teachings of John the Baptist. Some consider Gnosticism to be a branch of Christianity. However, there are other theories that date the belief system to a pre-Christian era. If these dates are accurate, it is interesting to note that the sign of Gnosticism is a cross-like symbol, one that was adopted and slightly altered to suit the purposes of Christianity.

In mainstream Christianity, the belief that Jesus is God II is a prerequisite to salvation. You must believe, truly believe, that Jesus was indeed God’s son, died, and rose from the dead before you will be forgiven for sin and granted eternal life. To Christians, it is not good enough to believe that Jesus was a “good man,” a gifted teacher, or even an enlightened being with unparalleled knowledge of spiritual issues. Yet, to believe that Jesus was the literal son of God, one must accept a host of other ideas. You must believe that there was a moment in heaven when God decided he was going to remove his own son from the luxury of paradise and convert him to human flesh. Did God and Jesus discuss this beforehand or was it a unilateral decision on God’s part? In any case, the fact remains that one must accept the idea that God decided to send his son to earth to be tortured and killed for a group of ungrateful wretches who had been giving him no end of grief.

Christianity says he did it because he loves humanity so much that he was willing to sacrifice his own son. According to the Gospels, Jesus himself prayed for deliverance in the Garden of Gethsemane, finally saying, “Not my will, but thine be done.” We would say that makes Jesus a good son, but does it make God a good parent?

If a human father heard that the son of a neighbor had been kidnapped and was about to be tortured and killed, and decided to swap his own son so the other boy could be saved, we would take a dim view of the behavior. It would be considered sick and that father would be imprisoned, particularly when it was learned that the father had the ability to save the neighbor’s child simply by walking into the hideout and carrying him out.

Aside from its interesting dramatic possibilities, the fact of whether God and Jesus agreed on the plan is beside the point. You must accept it in order to embrace the traditional Christian idea of

Jesus as God’s literal son. The grand plan to save humanity makes for a great story, perhaps the greatest story, but that doesn’t make it true. The idea that an omnipotent God couldn’t come up with another way to save humanity except by destroying his own son may be convenient for Christianity, but it simply does not compute with its other claims about the power of God. I don’t know that many people would argue the idea that the world is in need of saving. Not many people would claim that humanity is perfect and that everything is running smoothly and according to plan. Not only was God’s purported solution harsh and unrealistic, but it didn’t even solve the problem. The world is still a mess. Wars, murder, famine, hardship, sickness, and despair abound. God’s actions may or may not have been excusable if the world had been transformed into paradise as a result, but instead we have nothing to show for it. Nothing except a world operated by a loose chain of organized religions that take advantage of humanity’s basic desire to believe.

Fundamentalists would say that the problem has been solved, because we can now receive salvation by believing in Jesus as the risen son of God. I would point out, however, that according to the Bible and the fundamentalists who thump it, God created a perfect place where no sin existed, a true paradise in the form of a beautiful, lush garden. The Garden of Eden has long been the epitome of perfection, its exact location sought by archaeologists and historians. It was a result of God’s master plan to create beings to keep him company as the ages rolled, the area where these beings would live and eat.

Yet these same creatures were supposedly created with the ability to destroy God’s perfect creation. One would have to assume that God spent a good amount of time planning all this out.

After all, these are the beings that will amuse him for untold years to come. Why would God risk the fate of Creation by gambling everything on the abilities of two creatures so stupid they didn’t even realize they were naked until after eating an apple?

Again, the fundamentalist claim is that God wanted free will involved. He didn’t want to be worshipped by robots that only did it because they didn’t know any better. He wanted them to choose to obey and worship him. This, apparently, is also why he put the Tree of Good and Evil in the garden in the first place, and went so far as to say, “Don’t eat of this tree.” Imagine an omniscient god tempting fate in this way. It simple doesn’t make sense. Let’s try to follow God’s logic.

“I want these creatures to love and worship me. If I force them to love me, they will be slaves, so I must give them free will.” I think we’re all sort of with God on this so far. Unfortunately, he doesn’t stop there. “In order to prove they love me because they want to and not simply because it hasn’t occurred to them to do otherwise, I will place an item of temptation in their path. A tree with the ability to allow them to become as I am.” We can see that God is starting to obsess a little about this, but he takes it still further. “Not only will there be a forbidden fruit tree, but I will make the fruit of that tree more delicious than any other tree! I will expressly forbid them to

eat from it and will tell them exactly where it is so they will be able to easily find it and thereby prove their love for me.”

If I purchased a chocolate bar and wanted to make sure my friend ate it, all I would have to do is go to them and say, “Hey, I purchased a chocolate bar, but I didn’t want it. I put it in the drawer to the left of the sink.”

“So can I have it?” the friend asks.

“No. But I have to say that this brand of chocolate bar is the most delicious I’ve ever tasted! And if you eat it you’ll become like a god. Remember, don’t eat the Most Scrumptious Chocolate Bar in the World that is in the drawer to the left of the sink that will go to waste if someone doesn’t eat it pretty soon.”

At some point, the friend is going to eat the chocolate bar. He is only human, after all, and so were Adam and Eve. God created a perfect place and applied a perfect standard to creatures he intentionally made imperfect. He then blames them when they fail the impossible test and kicks them out of the garden by sending an angel wielding a flaming sword.

The story is obviously a fabrication of ancient tales and legend, woven together over generations and then somehow ending up as the revered word of God. It does illustrate, however, the absurdity of a large portion of one of the world’s major belief systems. The point is that God would not have handled the situation so poorly. Not only would he have taken steps to protect his perfect creation, but he would have been able to fix it after it was broken.

There are those who would argue this is what he did with the story of Noah’s ark, how God virtually wiped out mankind by sending a giant flood to cover the earth. However, the Christian idea that man is basically evil causes God once again to look like a bumbling idiot. God has to know that Noah and his sons are flawed beings and will only repopulate the earth with likeminded humans who will once again perform sinful acts. How dare fundamentalists consider God so stupid? It is a wonder he doesn’t use his vaunted power to strike them down for parading him like an effigy of absurdity before the rest of the world. This approach is like deciding to rid your lawn of dandelions by ripping them out, but then intentionally leaving a few behind.

To use Einstein’s definition of insanity, the case can be made that fundamentalist Christians, those who claim to be closest to God and cling tightly to the stories of the Bible, must consider God insane. If God is truly insane, then we are all doomed, and no amount of pandering will save us when a destructive temper strikes him.

This account, like the traditional story of Jesus, does nothing more than illustrate God’s poor planning and inability to follow an action through to its logical conclusion, something God should be able to do in the blink of an eye. All the intricacies and details should cause no

obstacle, yet they continually stump him. God is blocked at every turn and eventually one has to assume that someone is just throwing in a few twists to keep the story going.

So what does it mean if Jesus is the son of God? It means God is willing to consign family to horrible deaths in deference to people who do not deserve the favor. It means that the combined heads of the Trinity were unable to come up with a better solution to mankind’s problems than killing one of their own and by so doing setting off a wave of violence including, but not limited to, the Crusades. It means that God has given up on his perfect creation and decided to simply cut his losses because apparently Satan has outsmarted him. It means that God has set up an imperfect plan that is, once again, predicated on a complex, confusing, and unrealistic set of requirements.

There are people in the world who possess thinking patterns so constructed that it is impossible for them to accept the idea of a supernatural being, miracles, an afterlife, or anything else that cannot be definitively proven by visible, tangible evidence, particularly that which requires activity on their part. There are people incapable of putting their minds aside and relying on faith in order to accept the gift of salvation.

This is not to say that all believers are idiots, surely, but each one has made a conscious decision to believe certain things that many others consider the height of absurdity. Yet those same believers would say that the people devoid of faith were created by God to be that way. Does this mean that God created some people without the ability to believe and, therefore, be saved from eternal damnation? God’s plan, if accepted as laid out by Christianity, is simply not sufficient.

Not only is it unlikely that God would send his son to suffer and die, when there were certainly options available, and if he did then he would certainly have made sure to make it readily available to everyone regardless of their ability or willingness to believe in fairy tales.

For Jesus to be the literal son of God, we would need to throw reason aside in favor of emotion, reality in favor of tradition, and truth in favor of hope. Just as it cannot be proven that Jesus was the son of God, neither can it be thoroughly disproved, aside from the basic logic laid out in the preceding text. Based on our God-given powers of deduction, however, it is highly unlikely that Jesus was the literal son of God. It simply does not compute.

What This Means for the World Just because Jesus was not the literal son of God does not mean he is irrelevant, either in the context of history or in our lives today. It can certainly be argued that Jesus can serve as savior of the world without holding a permanent place in heaven’s throne room.

Fundamentalists tout salvation as something received upon “believing” in Jesus. This belief encompasses the stories of Jesus and the idea of his death and resurrection. Salvation, however, is not that lackluster or uninspired. Nor is it that simple.

As mentioned before, few people would argue that the world is in need of a good saving.

Salvation is something we can all hope to achieve, aside from its negative association with fundamentalism. Using the word apart from that and applying it to larger mankind in a similarly spiritual, but less confining sense, salvation provides us with a way of escaping the insanity of the world and slipping into a calmer, more structured spirit afterlife.

This is not unlike the idea of Christianity, but without the heavy overtones of judgment, death, and dogma. It is less defined and more malleable. It is personalized and offers a variety of methods to its ultimate achievement. The idea of “Jesus is the only way” goes out the window, as it surely must, and is replaced by the much more realistic idea that Jesus was a voice among a select few throughout history, an elite society of spiritually enlightened human beings who discovered the truths of life and strove to share them with the world. Jesus discovered the way to salvation. He did not claim to be the way to salvation. When he says in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” he is not saying “You guys have to believe everything I say or you’ll burn for eternity.” Instead he is trying to say, “Look, people. I’ve figured this thing out! I’ve been to the peak of enlightenment and crossed over to the other side. Listen to what I’m saying and I can show you how, too!”

Sadly, the accounts we have of Jesus have been heavily interpreted, translated, adjusted to meet the needs of the Church, and passed through many sets of hands. One can only marvel at the accounts we might have had if the guardians of history had stepped aside and allowed a true, unadulterated account of Jesus’ life and teachings to survive. What wisdom and direction we would likely find!

Salvation is a spiritual experience available to all mankind. Jesus was a teacher and enlightened being capable of understanding this. He does offer salvation, but not in the manner in which Christians may think. Instead, he offers an example through which mankind may be saved, not through the pagan ritual of blood sacrifice, but through a surrender of humanity. The example was his crucifixion.

A victim of the politics of the day, Jesus used the opportunity to escape the flesh and consume the spiritual. He is the salvation of mankind by offering the ultimate example. It is not by believing in him, but by believing in what he espoused that we find salvation. Heaven is not a physical place, but a state of being. That is how races from around the world can find salvation without having heard of Jesus. They do not need to hear his name to discover his truth.

Part Four

The Divine Search

Chapter Twelve The God Question

Much of this book would be rendered pointless if it was discovered that God did not exist.

Although we have seen that the existence of God cannot be either proven or disproved, taking a few moments to discuss what we know about God in the context of his reality would be useful as we near the end of the discussion.

This matter of existence has always been an issue and tendency toward the negative is gaining traction through the persuasive leadership of writers like Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, and Christopher Hitchens. I largely blame the state of Christianity for the upsurge in atheistic interest. It is an option that is somewhat appealing after a bout with religion. I dabbled with the idea of atheism myself, although ultimately found it lacking in substance and purpose.

The religious among us have been highly successful in painting atheists—and even to a large extent agnostics—in a very poor light. Atheists are unfairly mentioned in the same breath as child molesters and amoral degenerates. If someone guilty of a heinous crime is found to be also an atheist, the atheism is assumed to have played a role in their behavior. If calamity befalls an atheist, believers are convinced God is proving his existence by smiting the sinner.

Although I am not an atheist, I have com-passion for the difficulty an atheist’s belief (or unbelief) causes them. The religious establishment and the unbending nature of our culture bring tremendous pressure and prejudice against them. Often they must conceal their atheism to prevent repercussions, either political or social, and walk around with their dirty secret hidden deep inside.

Their plight is not unlike that of any religious outcast. In many religious circles, to question is to reject and rejection makes you a pariah. When I began voicing concerns and uncertainty, it didn’t take long for friends and acquaintances to begin distancing themselves or launch into conversion techniques, hoping to win me back to the fold. Although a single denomination isn’t the same as an entire culture, one can draw parallels. It doesn’t matter how small one’s world is, if that world turns against you it has the same devastating effect.

Blaise Pascal, a 17th century French philo-sopher, devised what is now known as Pascal’s Wager. In essence, Pascal’s point was that even though the existence of God cannot be proven, one has nothing to lose by believing and everything (presumably eternal life) to gain. Therefore, it would be wisest to “wager” on the existence of God. Pascal doesn’t specifically mention the

negative aspect of this logic, that disbelief could cost one’s soul, but it is inescapably part of the idea.

Although the concept was not free of criticism, even in his own day, Pascal makes decent sense.

One could make the argument that living as though God exists means better treatment of others, a more positive impact on society, and a smaller chance of bad behavior. After all, there is no doubt that some people refrain from certain activities merely because of the possible consequences.

On the other hand, are those people we should be most worried about those who would be restrained by a belief in God? Murderers, rapists, molesters, and others of the same ilk have always existed. And not all were atheists.

In this way, Pascal’s Wager comes up short: to deny the existence of God is not a sin. Therefore there is no risk. I believe God is profound to the extent that he would much prefer the questions of a seeker, even if that search ultimately denied his existence, to that of blind faith and the flaccid applause of the sycophant. Additionally, as Frank Schaeffer mentions in his book Patience with God, simply choosing to wager on God would be insincere and God would know this.

Many atheists have gone through much thought, research, and internal torment before reaching their decision, while many believers have never examined the foundations of their belief system.

It is easier to simply believe. Doing otherwise requires thought, effort, courage, and brutal honesty. It is frightening, exhausting, and isolating.

Of course, there is another side to the story, as there usually is. Some modern atheists, sometimes referred to as New Atheists, have created a religion of their own, a religion that holds as its main objective the discrediting of other belief systems and the winning of converts.

As you no doubt recall from our definition of “religion”—a set of beliefs that exists for a specific purpose—atheism, particularly the more zealous New Atheism, fits right in. It has its prophets— Dawkins, Hitchens, Harris—and its holy books—The God Delusion, God Is Not Great, and The End of Faith. It actively seeks converts and ridicules those who do not accept the faith. In his book, God Is Not Great, Christopher Hitchens calls the traditionally religious “stupid” and “ignorant,” and refers to them as “yokels.” Richard Dawkins spends much of The God Delusion writing about how the existence of God cannot be scientifically proven, but then proceeds to use certain scientific methodology to attempt proof that he doesn’t.

Atheists use this new religion in an attempt to destroy the traditional one, using many of the same corrupt techniques they excoriate the Church for using. Traditional religious leaders and the rabid atheists share one thing: they are both human. Therefore, their belief systems are prone to be faulty.

This is what troubles me most about both atheism and religion. The extremes of both sides are unwilling to fully examine themselves in order to come to a truer understanding of reality. They both unquestioningly accept their own credo and viciously attack any other.

Many atheists are just as adamant about not believing as traditionally religious people are about believing. Extremism on either side is dangerous and should be avoided. Extremism is the root of the problem, not belief or unbelief. (For the purpose of the discussion, we’ll assume the two are similar enough, for in the context of religious debate, they often become interchangeable.)

It is when one becomes so inflexible in their own belief system that they wish to stamp out any dissent that the trouble starts. While religion is responsible for a great many wars, it is not alone in that dubious distinction. Secular events led to many as well. Often, religion was used merely as a scapegoat, with the actual conflict being more about the greedy desire for more land, riches, or conquest. In short, both religion and secularism are responsible for tragedy and evil, and it is always when either side becomes a zealot.

Yet God can hardly be held responsible for any of this. God and religion are not synonymous, regardless of what both atheists and Church leaders would have us believe. Atheists wish to use the insanity of religion to discredit God, while religious leaders desire to keep their ranks full by linking God and the Church. The truth is that religion has hijacked God and made him do its bidding.

In God Is Not Great, Hitchens writes, “God didn’t create man. Man created God.” Although Hitchens takes it further by denying the existence of God, in a sense he is right. I believe a god exists—but not as man (religion) portrays him. Man created God as man wanted him to be, not how he is.

Man has always made God in his own image. Consider the religious statues of years past. They always reflected the trappings of that specific culture. Today, denominations create God around their beliefs and assume he sanctions their agenda. They have created God. Every time we decide what we want and craft God around it, we have created God. Not only do we create him, but we take comfort in the fact that he, this being we have created, is “there.” Now that, my friends, is the God Delusion. God is not necessarily what we want him to be. He is what he is. Fortunately for us, he is what we should want him to be.

Ludwig Feuerbach, a German philosopher in the 19th century, used this desire for God as a means to disprove his existence. His argument was that people project these feelings of and desire for consolation and “call it God.” However, as Alistair McGrath points out in The Dawkins Delusion, “…wanting something is no demonstration that it does not exist. Human thirst points to the need for water. It also suggests that all worldviews are a response to human needs and desires—including, of course, atheism, which can be seen as a response to the human desire for moral autonomy.”

McGrath is right, of course. Most arguments against God can be turned and used as evidence for God and vise-versa. There is simply no real proof for or against God. The same thing can be said of the old argument concerning evil in the world: if there is evil, then there must be no God, for he would not allow it. One could just as easily say, “the existence of evil proves there is a God, for without him there would be no standard for good and evil at all.”

In the end, a belief in God is a personal choice. It is possible, and not unreasonable, to believe in something without proof. A belief in God would only be unreasonable if there were solid evidence against it. By the same token, it is hardly “evil” to choose to not believe in something for the very reason that no solid evidence exists.

Yet this is all meaningless babble, really, and one must make up their own hearts and minds about God. What bothers me most is the exclusivity of both sides. Atheists scoff at believers and question their intelligence, while believers dismiss atheists as hedonistic reprobates and condemn them to hell. There is room for both schools of thought and both sides should take steps to minimize the lunatic fringe of their respective camps. If nothing else, both sides should realize that the crazies do not speak for the entirety. They simply make more noise. Atheists and believers should strive to recognize the validity in each other’s claims so that we may learn to work together on issues that might actually have an impact on our society. This will require a conclusion to the everlasting sniping and down-right vicious behavior that is now occurring.

In this modern day, it is time to put such childish behavior aside. Hold nothing sacred, not even our own beliefs, and honestly examine each one with the full expectation and acceptance that a neighbor might come to a completely different conclusion. Is it so bad that someone might disagree with us on what name God might wish to use or even if he exists at all? What is important is that we are all human beings existing on the same planet and the fact that we are constantly finding trivial excuses to make life miserable for each other is sheer madness.

And so we’ve reached the end of this section without answering the initial question. Perhaps that is how it is intended to be. Perhaps we are supposed to spend our lives searching and wondering, for it is only through honest and diligent pilgrimage that one finds peace. Turmoil brings peace, while noise brings tranquility—the strangest paradox in nature. Perhaps that in itself is evidence for God?

Chapter Thirteen The Nature of God

This section title may be a bit misleading. I certainly would not be confident enough to believe I had plumbed the depths of God’s psyche and am here to present my findings. Rather, I intend to

do just what I set out in the beginning: record my thoughts and personal discoveries. While I feel I am correct in my assertions (else why would I offer them), I am painfully aware of my inability to adequately describe God. The church in which I grew up was a study in contradictions. They spent a lot of time talking about a god of love, but then proceeded to live their lives as if under the watchful eye of an evil, vindictive god. My mother once told me her worst fear was displeasing God. At the time, everyone thought her dedication to the Almighty was admirable, as it no doubt was, but I now find the remark troubling and sad.

While her fear was doubtless born out of a desire to please God, it speaks volumes concerning the atmosphere and mindset of my childhood church. They would say God was love, but then threaten his displeasure if you didn’t do everything his way.

This contradiction continues to this day. Churches liken God to a parent, but what manner of parent only loves a child if it lives its entire life in complete accordance with parental will? They equate God’s judgment to that of a sorrowful parent punishing a willful child—“this hurts me more than it hurts you.” The analogy falls apart, however, when you consider the difference between a spanking or “time-out” to eternal damnation.

“You had a sexual encounter outside of marriage? How about spending the next, oh, forever writhing in burning agony? Just remember it’s only because I love you so.”

Is that a god anyone would choose to serve? Yet people do, hounded by guilt and fear. Even people who don’t fully subscribe to the notion still go along with the Church’s dictates on the philosophy that it’s “better to be safe than sorry.” I’ve heard ministers actually use that argument in sermons. “Why take the chance?” they say. It’s almost as if they’re admitting what they’re saying is suspect. “Sure, it may seem unlikely, but what if by some chance you’re wrong and I’m right? If you’re right then I may feel a little foolish during the opening monologue of the afterlife, but I’ll get over it. If you’re wrong, then…”

The fundamentalist idea of God as parent is initially an inviting picture, but one that doesn’t play out in their theology. Parents love their children even when the child grows up and perhaps does things the parents taught it not to do. The child might marry the wrong person, work at the wrong job, or make a few mistakes, but they can always come home for the holidays. This is the breadth of a human parent’s love.

Fundamentalists cut God short. They unintentionally suggest that God is not capable of such a love, that his love for mankind is limited and conditioned on strict obedience. (Obedience to a set of requirements largely set forth by those same fundamentalists, by the way.)

To those of his children who stray, God is reported to send them to a place of eternal suffering, where even he does not exist, and where they will spend eternity living out their worst fears and

torments. A parent who behaved as God is supposed to would be termed unfit, have their children taken away, and jailed as an egomaniacal menace to society.

The clever, all-too-pat explanation for this is that because God is so holy he cannot overlook “sin” of any kind, as apparently this would make him some sort of an accessory. There are several reasons why this doesn’t hold water. We’ll look at two.

First, God transcends his own righteousness. For the sake of argument, let’s assume the requirements set forth by fundamentalists are correct and directly from God. They would be laws set by God and would therefore only be laws because he was God. Therefore, the fact that God is God precedes the requirements expected of us. If God is God first, then God’s love also precedes those same requirements and holds dominion over them, for love is a quality inherent in God’s nature. A requirement is a single existing item, while love is an intangible ideal. Make a small mark on a piece of blank paper—that’s a requirement. Now draw a circle around it—that’s love.

Which is bigger? Does the requirement own love or the other way around?

The second problem with this belief is the simple fact that the requirements set forth by fundamentalists are their own. Their claim that they are completely supported by biblical teaching is simply not true, although it wouldn’t matter much anyway, as the Bible makes many other outrageous demands that even fundamentalists do not follow. One simply cannot make up a set of rules, put God’s stamp on it, and then expect God to fall into line.

God—the nature of God—is really an unknown quantity. There is no way to definitively list and categorize him, even though countless sermons have been preached that attempt to do this very thing. Three point outlines on the nature of God are popular in the fundamentalist church realm, because it allows them to lay out their entire platform in one service. God as creator (inerrancy of the Bible), God as friend (conversion), and God as judge (punishment for sinners). Yet, even fundamentalists have no concept of God as he truly is. As repugnant as atheists find this thinking, there is a cloud of mystery surrounding God and, yes, it is no doubt true that human minds are incapable of fully grasping him.

Far from simply using our own limitations as an excuse and reason to avoid tough questions, however, the fact that we are limited should serve as a call to seekers everywhere. This is where faith and religion collide, and is another reason why religion has flourished, despite its obvious flaws. Mankind is always searching, reaching for the unknown. God is an unknown and therefore attractive to curious minds. That which is unknown has one of two effects on people: they either denounce it or they worship it.

Chapter Fourteen

An Introduction to Energetic Universalism

So far we’ve discussed the existence and nature of God as it relates to the ideas with which most of us are familiar. Now it is time to examine some newer concepts of God that may not be as comfortable.

We have reached a limited number of con-clusions about God. First, we have chosen within the confines of this book and through honest conversation to accept his existence. Second, we have learned that he is not an evil entity trying to kill us. These two ideas don’t go far toward solving the God Question, however. If God exists, then who is he? What is he? Does he have a plan for the world? Why doesn’t he stop evil? Does he care about our lives?

Many people have attempted to answer these questions, most unsatisfactorily. The inability of believers in God to articulate answers to the most difficult questions is a major cause of disbelief in God. If one cannot adequately defend one’s viewpoint, one cannot be surprised if others choose not to embrace it.

When observed through the scope of these unanswered questions, atheism begins to make a bit of sense. For example, if God loves the world, why doesn’t he stop violence and suffering? The answer most believers give of “we live in a free will world and the poor choices of others cause this suffering” simply doesn’t work.

As a young Christian, I tried desperately to accept the explanation, since it was the best one I’d heard and I certainly couldn’t manufacture a better one. I was never satisfied, however, and the nagging questions never left my mind. What kind of weakling did that make the god I was serving? It was discouraging, unsettling, and troublesome.

It gradually began to occur to me, however, that the reason the questions about God couldn’t be answered satisfactorily was because the concept of God was flawed. When you picture God as a single entity, the Old Man in the Sky, we ascribe humanity to him. We imagine someone sitting on a throne pulling all the strings in the Universe, thereby being at fault when something goes wrong.

God is not the Man in the Sky. He is not the sage on top of the highest mountain. God is not an obese statue residing in a garden of pleasant foliage. He is not the vindictive judge of humanity, waiting with an iron fist to teach us all a lesson once we’ve struggled through our lives. Yet the answer to the question “who or what is God” is not best answered through a single line. Let’s go back over a previous discussion and look at it with different eyes.

We have seen how the fundamentalist idea of Creation is thoroughly impossible. Yet, the fact remains that we are here, at least we will reasonably assume this to be the case.

We explored the idea of the Big Bang and evolution, and suggested theistic evolution as a compromise. There is, however, still a problem. Where did the raw material come from? How did it get there? How did the massive energy that caused the beginning of our Universe come to be? Evolution fails to answer the question. Christianity answers the question, but not satisfactorily. Did God create the original mass of energy that resulted in the beginning of “us”?

The answer, of course, is no. If God had manufactured a bunch of energy with the intent of creating the world, he may as well just have created the entire thing. Yet, we have concluded that couldn’t have happened. On the other hand, it is not inconceivable that God was there at the beginning. Therefore, we are left with the obvious conclusion that God did not create the original explosion of energy. Rather, he was the energy.

When one thinks about the bigger picture, understands how small our world and all that we know beyond it is, we are struck by how tiny we really are. When we consider how massive this thing called God must be, how powerful his existence, how his energy must crackle and create, it does not seem absurd that something would happen. God didn’t have to speak worlds into existence.

His own existence caused it to happen.

In a very real sense, God is still creating. More accurately, God is still causing creation. Our Universe is expanding. New worlds are being created. Our world is not the only one, although our arrogance often tells us it is. We are not alone in the Universe. God didn’t stop with us. He couldn’t, because he still exists. The only way to halt creation and the constant expansion of the Universe would be for God to die. God is the Universe and the Universe is God. The world around us is made of energy. Without it, Life and all that is dependent on it would not exist. Again, it is vital to realize that Life as we know it is very small. We are part of the Universe, but not the focus of it.

This is an important point, because it illustrates another problem with the funda-mentalist concept of redemption. They often assume we are all there is. As we’ve seen, there is no reason to think so. If anything, logic would suggest otherwise. If we are not alone in the Universe, did Jesus Christ appear to every inhabited world, go through death and rise from the dead time and time again? And if not, how is that fair? It is only by recognizing that we are not all that exists that we can gain any measure of perspective. Without this perspective we are doomed to the same small-minded philosophies that so often end up controlling our lives.

This holds true for the deeper definition of spirituality we referred to earlier in the book, which in this context is, “a journey, usually internal, focused on the search for inner enlighten-ment.”

The energy that is the Universe makes the spiritual journey possible and worthwhile. This energy is where we come from, it is who we are, and it is who we will be when the physical body passes. French philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said it best in his book, Phenomenon of Man, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.”

This is a vital point to make and understand. Until then, it is impossible to grasp the concept of spirituality and how it applies to us on a personal level. The traditional Christian viewpoint is that of a physical body, created by God, which contains a soul to be released upon death. The spiritual view is that of a spiritual being (soul) enjoying a fleeting physical experience created through the energy that is the Universe that is God. In some ways the ideas are similar, but once again religion falls short of the mark by limiting itself and creating such a rigid structure that it is impossible to fully realize the significance of the idea. One does not simply live, die, and arrive at either heaven or hell for eternity. Rather, we have always been alive in some form, but now exist in a physical sense, after which we will continue our spiritual life fueled by the energy of the Universe/God. It is amazingly liberating to realize that we were created because of God and not directly by him.

It was not a conscious decision on his part to create humanity to fulfill a certain purpose, i.e. to serve him. We are by-products of God, not intricately designed robots. As such, we really do not owe God anything and he does not expect anything specific from us. This is emancipating, because it frees us from the dictates of religion that are based on the idea that “this is what God wants from you.” This is one of the most convincing arguments against strict Creationism. If God had created mankind specifically and with attention to detail, he would have done a much better job. The explanation of original sin simply does not satisfy, as we read in an earlier chapter.

This does not mean, however, that we are entirely on our own. God is still conscious of what happens throughout existence—how could he not, it being part of him? He takes notice and, dare I say, cares. He is, after all, responsible for it. This, of course, raises one of the major questions that has dogged Christians for centuries. If God cares, then how do we explain war, famine, sickness, and death?

As much as we might want to believe it, we are not intentional creations. We are here largely by chance, yet through the influence and power of God. This is why our world is so flawed, why people get sick and die, often prematurely, and why there is injustice, pain, loss, and suffering. It is important to realize how ultimately insignificant this world is, with all its problems and hardship. We ourselves are so much larger than we could imagine with our limited human capacity.

Physicality is so encapsulating that it limits our ability in every way, including the ability to understand true reality. In a sense we are now living in a virtual reality, where everything is just a little bit off. Life as we know it is truly unfair, but it is to be expected, given the nature of our existence. This, of course, does not make the injustices any easier to bear, unless we ultimately understand their place in the bigger picture.

As stated before, we were “alive” prior to our current existence, although in a different form. Our physical forms, appearance, names, and identity all occurred during this physical transformation.

Humanity and the physical world we know came into being through a physical manifestation of spiritual energy that is God and is perpetuated through reproduction. It is through this physical manifestation that we receive our identities and become a cohesive mass of energy in our own right. There is no “pool of souls.” God does not create new souls or insert them into young fetuses. A baby is further demonstration of the power of organic energy.

Once this energy leaves the body, we exit the physical existence. Death is simply Life Energy leaving the body once it becomes an untenable host vessel. The energy mass does not simply rejoin the energy conglomerate, however. The physical experience is powerful in and of itself, as it has the ability to impart an identity to a given energy mass. After death, we retain our identity and can now fully experience the spiritual life we are meant to have, without restraint or limitations.

This process is happening throughout the Universe. Extraterrestrial beings are the same as we are, even if different in physical form and appearance. We have no concept of what is actually “out there,” and we never will while trapped in the physical world. It is truly an amazing array of spiritual beings interacting on a plane of existence never imagined or conceived.

Paranormal investigation, for example, is simply a study of the spiritual afterlife, although it is often cavalierly referred to as “ghost-hunting.” The term “ghost” is much maligned and has been much overused, but is nothing more than a lay term for what we’ve been discussing.

The spiritual world is alive and well, much more than are we. We exist within the spiritual realm, not the other way around. It is not inconceivable that it would interact from time to time and, in fact, it is inevitable. Even paranormal beings we as humans do not recognize, unpleasant entities, for example, are within reason, given the fact that the physical world we know is a mere blip on the universal screen.

Evil exists in the physical world because it exists in the spiritual. Yet that raises the question, “If evil exists in the Universe and God is the Universe, does that make God evil?” It’s a valid question and one worth considering.

We mentioned earlier that God is obviously not evil or we would not exist. Although evil exists in the world, most people are not evil by nature. Most of us simply want to live quiet, peaceful lives without threat or unpleasantness. We mind our own business or even go out of our way to help others. Therefore, if we are manifestations of God and are not inherently evil, then neither is God. That does not answer the question of where evil came from, however. This can only be understood via the concept of conflict.

We as human beings choose throughout our lives to do either good or evil, far beyond simply taking a pencil from work or sampling a grape in the produce department. Who we are here determines how we will be in the afterlife, albeit magnified exponentially by a release from physical limitations. A person who chooses to do good on earth will likely do the same

afterward. Someone who chooses evil will do likewise. Can you imagine the evil of a Stalin or Manson being increased to untold levels and having a similar growth in power and ability to initiate any evil desire? That is the definition of demonic.

Yet this conflict itself creates energy, although negative. It creates unrest in our physical world and plays upon its inherent imperfections to cause further misery, not to mention contributing to the occurrence of natural disasters.

It is entirely natural for such a concept to be unsettling and again begs the question, “Are we on our own?” People often turn to prayer as a way of dealing with life’s uncertainties and dangers.

Some would submit, given the setup of the Universe and the fact that God is not simply a Man in the Sky waiting with open ears to hear our every desire, that prayer is useless. Perhaps a crutch to assist the weak-willed and those who need help making it through difficult times.

Even through this lens, however, prayer and meditation are still powerful tools. They are ways to exert a level of control over our existence and events. There are many cases of healing and positive outcomes as a result of prayer. Christianity has hijacked this, as well, saying that supplication to God causes him to intervene. They picture him reaching down to a sick bed and touching the ailing person, thereby healing them.

As beings created through energy, we have the ability to exert that energy in a variety of ways.

Activities such as prayer and meditation tap into the most spiritual part of our being, allowing us to access that part of our existence in a limited sense and direct it upon a situation or condition.

This is the most powerful method at our disposal. The targeting of energy can influence behavior, align the soul, and alter events.

Again, notice the liberation that comes with the viewpoint. Christians believe in prayer, a supplication to God on a certain theme. The problem is that if the problem doesn’t go away, then God must have said, “Nah.” We are then left to wonder why. Was God unable to perform the task? Did he simply decide not to? If so, why? As is typical, it is an entirely unsatisfactory explanation. And, again, it goes deeper than religion teaches.

Prayer or meditation can bring about change. It centers spiritual energy on the subject and can cause shifts in the physical alignment. The more spiritually aware the person is the more power (energy) they will be able to focus. This is why certain spiritual leaders, while most modern examples are shams and charlatans preying on the innermost desires of humanity, are able to obtain a higher percentage of positive results.

The shamans, healers, and medicine men of the past were powerful men of deep spiritual insight and understanding. They devoted their lives to exploring and studying the mysteries of the outer world and had gotten in touch with their spiritual energy. Anyone can do it, but the effectiveness varies with the degree of spiritual insight and understanding.

Even with prayer and the existence of an afterlife, however, many express the concern that, without the firm concept of a God who will eventually judge all right and wrong, there is no reason for anyone to live their life as a good and moral person. If there is no ultimate judgment, then why live according to the rules?

There are reasons, however, not the least of which is the point made earlier. You will be in the afterlife what you are as a physical being. You are forming your spiritual existence as we speak and the choices you make here will have a profound impact on who you are then.

Also remember that the qualities you train and exert now will be manifestly increased later. A focus on charity will result in the same quality later, but to an entirely different level once you are released from physical limitations. By exercising and increasing your capacity for good, you are giving yourself an advantage later. By the same token, those who practice unsavory behaviors now have little to no chance of changing after death. They will have already molded themselves into who they will be.

It is not a stretch to say that the physical world is little more than a training ground for what is to come. We can either live our lives as well-intentioned individuals, subsequently reaping the rewards, or we can do the opposite and pay for it later.

The concept of heaven and hell is flawed in that they are not literal places. However, it would be a mistake for those truly focused on evil to assume they will have free reign in the afterlife to do as they please. Such is not the case. The Universe being God and God being inherently good, the evil of the afterlife will be at a distinct disadvantage. While punishment may not be a lake of fire or a pit of smoldering brimstone, they will have volunteered for their own personal hell by being eternally at odds with the Universe, outcasts among all but those who are just as evil and unpleasant as they are. Judgment will be meted out, but we will have performed it on ourselves.

Ultimately, we are in control of our individual eternal destinies.

Chapter Fifteen Wrapping It Up

Religion in general and fundamentalism in particular gives people something to lean on. It allows them to feel secure and safe in a world that seems constantly in flux. There is always a price to pay for security, however, and the toll exacted by these entities is heavy. You must align yourself with their dogma and accept the obvious faults and inconsistencies in theology. You must relinquish the rights to free-thinking and honest debate. You must enter the world of specific boundaries and precepts, and be satisfied with the status quo. You must be satisfied with tepid explanations and clichÊd solutions to life’s problems and your own questions.

It troubles me to see people immerse themselves in the traditional world of religion, because having been there I know there is no chance of them ever reaching their full potential while under the tutelage of the organization.

I understand the desire for stability and recognize the Church can provide this under the aforementioned conditions. Again, I have been there and chose that path for years. Once I made the decision to explore for myself and examine the evidence as it existed, it was terrifying to realize that I was leaving behind my comfortable little box in favor of some unknown quantity.

There were many times when I considered going back, abandoning these crazy notions and reclaiming those feelings of security and acceptance.

“What am I doing?” I asked. “Who do I think I am, questioning ideas that have been around for centuries?”

Intellectually, I knew that just because an idea was old didn’t make it accurate, but there was still a little voice inside my head that kept calling me back. My upbringing and the innate desire to belong were powerful influences and I struggled daily to come to grips with them.

I still feel that to some degree whenever I hear about various church members I used to know, friends who still belong that I used to spend so much time with. It causes a twist of emotion inside. I miss the camaraderie and the sense of community. Yet my mind and spirit will not allow me to return. Nor do I want to. It would be foolish and hypocritical to voluntarily place myself back under the domination of a fundamentalist regime.

The world is so much larger than I ever imagined, than I was ever allowed to imagine, and I regret wasted years and feel sad that so many people I know will never themselves have the amazing experiences of the mind and heart that I have had.

Many are trapped without knowledge. Some are willingly trapped for a variety of reasons: family, reputation, a desire for predictability. For those who are inwardly searching, however, I would urge them not to fear the quiet questions of their own hearts. Be true to yourself.

I wish I had had this book during my exodus from the Church. I feel parts of it would have helped me immensely as I struggled with various aspects of my background. Having said that, this book is about my journey and the things I have learned thus far. It is not meant to be a new religious handbook for you. I encourage everyone to embark on their own individual searching and examination of their spiritual existence. As stated before, religion is for the masses.

Spirituality is for the individual. Put aside religion and pursue your own spirituality. Leave the doors wide open, hold nothing back, and erect no sacred cows. Allow yourself to feel uncomfortable with your questions. Accept the deepest ponderings of your heart and give them the attention they deserve.

This is your hour. This is your time. You can never know who you truly are until you take this journey. Understand that it is a voyage that never ends. It is not the destination that is important, it is the journey. You will discover a great many things, arrive at conclusions, and find a lot more questions. That is the beauty of the Search.

Only you can set yourself free. Cut the ropes, break the chains, and fly.

The End