Heathen

I don't go to church. I don't go to a mosque or a temple or any building in which worship occurs. I don't knock people who do so. In fact, in many ways, I understand it. I recognize the need for fellowship, the need for guidance. We live in an insane world in which both horrible and wonderful things happen every day. On any given day… while a person lies in pain from a terminal illness, while someone is being raped, while a violent murder is occurring… parents are taking home their beautiful newborn child, another person comes out of a terrible accident unscathed, someone finds a reason to live.

Several good reasons for my discontent with religion in general are the people I've met throughout my life. I have problems with some doctrines as well. I've read several versions of the Bible, many times, and feel I have the right to question what I read. Mainly because the Bible has been interpreted and translated so many times, I've lost count. And I was raised around Christianity, so it's generally the religion I analyze the most. But that's another topic entirely. In all its denominations, I've found that the persons who claim to be God's chosen ones, true Christians, the most religious (and I stress religious, not spiritual), the ones who go to church every week and sit in the first pew are some of the most preening, sanctimonious, self-satisfied, hypocritical individuals I have ever met. When I was young, we had the "privilege" of having a couple who were missionaries stay with us for a period of time… I have possibly never taken such an instant dislike to people in my entire life. I will call them Larry and Joan. Larry and Joan complained… about everything. Though we (and another family before us) had taken them in, made space for them in our home, fed them so that they could prep for a life of hardship ministering to the godless natives in a foreign land, these two proceeded to speak negatively about their lodging (I had given up my room for them, by the way), the food (they had no money for anything, including groceries) and anything else you could think of. And after all was said and done, they got assigned to the horrific, war-torn land of… St. Lucia...

Yes, they got sent to an island paradise in the Caribbean, a place people choose to take vacations and honeymoons, complete with sandy beaches and water the color of turquoise. Turquoise! They came back to visit us a few years later. After toiling and suffering in a tropical refuge… they decided to come home to the States for a few weeks to see their friends and family. Another missionary couple had returned as well. I had never met them before and didn't have much time to get to know them. I don't even remember their names. However, they seemed nice enough and we all sat down and listened as both couples related their experiences. The second couple had been assigned to… South Africa. They described how they had been preaching in Cape Town when a group of protesters stormed the area… there were shootings and beatings… they had to run for their lives. They had to hide behind a building, waiting for some of the violence to pass so that they could get to their vehicle and escape. People were killed during this protest. People were shot, dragged through the streets, hung. Immediately after this, Larry spoke of the hardships he and Joan had suffered. He told a colorful tale of how he and his wife had been preaching to a family in St. Lucia. While they were talking to the adults, some kids in the yard were playing with a B.B. gun. One of the kids shot the gun at a tree and a B.B. ricocheted off it and grazed Joan on her leg. Larry expressed how he never knew things would be so difficult there.

I wish I was kidding...

But I am not. This is exactly how it went, exactly what was said. Larry tried to compete with a tale of violence and murder by relaying a story in which his wife was grazed on her calf by a B.B. from a B.B. gun. I am not making this up. This conversation actually occurred and was witnessed by several people who are still around to back me up today. I was flabbergasted. I remember looking at my mother during this discussion and attempting to telepathically ask her, "Are they serious?!" I looked around at everyone else to see if anyone else's face was expressing the disbelief I felt. But they were all enraptured by the conversation and nodding. As if this wasn't enough, my parents had planned a cookout in Larry and Joan's honor. I was completely done with them after I walked in on my mother, sad-faced and slightly teary-eyed, in the kitchen. Evidently, Larry told her that when he was visiting some family and other friends the weekend before, they had served steak at that gathering. He asked my mother, "Why are you serving only hamburgers and hot dogs?" I'm sure he said it in the voice of a humble, sincere servant of the Lord. I'm going to assume that if he were present when Jesus multiplied the loaves of bread and fish, he would have asked, "Where's the lobster?!"

If these were the only people I'd ever met like this that claimed to be holy, I probably wouldn't be the person I am now or feel the way I do about organized religion. But I've met many, many people like this my whole life. I know you can find people who are truly good and strive to follow Biblical principles, but why are these other ones the ones you see the most? I see so much hypocrisy that it's almost unbelievable. It's always that charismatic man who everyone loves to see preach the Word that ends up confessing to sleeping with one or more of his female parishioners. It's always that preacher screaming that "homosexuals are going to hell in a hand-basket full of gasoline" that ends up with pictures on the internet walking out of a gay club. There's always, always… something. I hear the excuses for it, I've heard them my whole life, too. No one's perfect, everyone makes mistakes, etc. But I ask, if you are truly a man or woman of God as you claim, shouldn't we expect you to live up to higher standards?

It doesn't help that I read an article recently regarding several televangelists/leaders of mega-churches who advocate this teaching called "prosperity theology" which in a nutshell means that God blesses preachers with money to buy mansions, Bentleys, etc. I find it hard to imagine Jesus in a Bentley or even a Benz for that matter. I don't have a problem with a "person of God" accumulating riches… I have a problem with what they do with those riches, or rather what they don't do with those riches. Maybe I'm wrong for believing that a person who claims to be spiritual should have more humility, more empathy, more regard for humanity. Maybe I will go to hell for doubting that God endows his "favored" followers with mansions and jewels and money and luxury cars and private planes when there are children starving in every country, people living on sidewalks, scientists begging for money for research to cure diseases that kill millions of people every year. I wouldn't knock a regular person for this. If I had millions of dollars, I might buy myself a luxury car or two… but I'm not claiming to be a chosen one. I'm not claiming to be blessed by God. I'm not even claiming to be a Christian because I don't label what I am. I haven't really decided yet. But I would think that any person who says they are a Christian would attempt to emulate Jesus Christ. But considering that some people who embrace Christianity have never actually read the Bible in its entirety for themselves, maybe they've never read the parts where Jesus condemned the Pharisees for their holier-than-thou attitude or turned over the money tables in the temple. Apparently, Jesus took offense to these men turning a profit on people who wanted to hear the word of God… I wonder how he'd feel about the preacher flying in on a private jet…