So class after class I would keep thinking to myself, “This is so far from the truth. That is not what it’s about.” The Jesus I know is not the one I learned about in philosophy. The Christianity I know is not just about hell, fire and brimstone. It is not just about moral guidelines and incessant, irrelevant rules. It easy to understand why someone would not want to be a Christian. I wouldn’t want to be one either if all I heard of Christianity was from the people I saw on television and the religion I heard about in class.
As I sat in class I heard about how the people who believed in this God were foolish and ignorant, ascribing their superstition to some deity high up in the sky. Religion was based on men’s fears of the unknown. Spinoza says that men are wavering, weak, and confused and turn to God in the madness and distress of life. Nietzsche claimed that morality was the weak person’s way of enslaving the strong. If you could not beat a strong person through power or strength, than developing a system of morality would be a way to simultaneously praise the weak for their virtuous humility, while chastising the strong for their drive. Morality then was developed from what Nietzsche called the “slave morality” where morals were enforced on the “noble class” or the strong. It was revenge upon the aggressors, the lords, those who held power over the weak. Morality was born out of resentment of the strong and religion as well. It’s kind of like challenging Kobe to chess because you know you can’t beat him in basketball. Nietzsche firmly believed that until we declared the death of God, humanity could not be redeemed. Marx called religion the “opiate of the masses,” it was a drug for the lowly to put their weight on in the cruelty of life.
Christianity was a religion for the weak, a crutch for those who couldn’t do life on their own. It was a way to cope with fear of the unknown, a way to stomach the harshness of life. At first I wanted to refute these statements. But then I stopped, because I think it could be partly true.
It is a hard thing to swallow when others call you weak, when your beliefs are seen as mere coping mechanisms to deal with pain and suffering, but what if it’s true? What if I am only a Christian because I am scared? What if I am scared of a world without order, without meaning? What if I follow religion simply to make me feel better about myself? Maybe I am weak. Maybe I am needy. Maybe I am ignorant. Maybe I am scared.
It is a hard thing to swallow when someone tells you your faith is “Fine, if you need that type of thing.” As if they are doing just fine in life and it’s just too bad that you can’t do it on your own.
It is a very scary thing to think that I could be wrong.
That I could be an ignorant fool. That the faith I have followed for so many years is nothing but superstition. That the God I seek, is no more real than man-bear-pig (which I guess is pretty real if you talk to Al Gore.) That the times I have felt Him are nothing more than chemical impulses, neurons and protons. That this Jesus guy was nothing more than a good teacher, with ideas no more unique than Socrates or Nostradamus. I hope, I pray that this is not true, but what if. What if it is all a lie. What if we humans are nothing more than random particles in an infinite universe, no more unique than algae or Dial soap. What if God is nothing more than a grown up invisible friend? I’m not sure how to deal with these what if’s. I guess that is where faith comes in. A faith that believes in the unbelievable, in the unseen. A faith that believes that I am more than matter and DNA. That I have a soul, a spirit. That yes, I am weak, but aren’t we all? And yes, I do need others. I would rather use God as a crutch with the hope that he is there, than stand on my own, with no hope at all. If Christianity is a drug, than I’d rather smoke it three times a day, than live a life with no purpose or meaning. I figure I have a 50/50 chance that God exists, and I figure I would rather spend my life serving some invisible ghost in the belief that there is something bigger than me, than spend mortal hours worshipping myself. I am okay with the fact that I am weak, that I am not okay, that I need a purpose, a reason to live. I am okay that I may always look like Elmo compared to the independent George Clooney’s( I am not dissing George here, I am merely stating that often times being a Christian earns you about as much respect as Elmo compared to George Clooney. On a side note, George Clooney is one of my friends top man crush’s. No, he’s not gay, but if he was…George Clooney could sail on his Ocean’s Eleven.)
I am okay with not being solely independent, with depending on others and God to help me make it through life without punching toddlers.
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