The God Issue

Various religious denominations have the right, as they should, to expound endless theories, beliefs and human-affecting constructs regarding universal creation, miracles and divine providence in general. As a sovereign individual, at least in America (for the time being, anyway), I, too, have rights of free speech and religious convictions or denials thereof. In church literature, for instance, the terms God and Heaven are capitalized. In my own writings they shall not be.

In my belief system, these concepts–god, heaven, hell, purgatory, divine providence–are mere fairytales. To believe in heaven is tantamount to thinking those of us who are deserving will be whisked away to the Land of Oz right after we drop dead. Our new pals will be Dorothy, Tin Man, the scarecrow and Toto. Oh, and, of course, the Wizard himself (even though we found out about him!) I may as well adopt the notion that dying and being buried is the same as being dropped down the rabbit hole. Tweedledum & Tweedledee will be chasing me around a tree. I may think it’s raining but, it’s only the Cheshire cat taking a leak on my head! Silly, I know. But, no sillier than Saint Peter meeting me at the pearly gates where I find god, the father, sitting on a golden throne… his long white beard outdoing Santa Claus’ by a mile.

Then, of course, we have the old fire & brimstone contingent. They’re ready to condemn anyone who pisses on the side of a church to burn into a potato chip. Nothing here on earth anything like that, right?
Why do over 80% of people need some deity to “rest easy their souls?” A few suggestions to be addressed might be:
To teach accepted behavioral patterns–don’t we have laws and civics classes to teach those doctrines?
To not feel so alone in the universe–why, does god come over for tea and crumpets and sit with you periodically? Why not imagine Yogi Bear and Underdog are your outer-space pals, as well?
To know there is a moral imperative and a concept of right & wrong in the universe–uh-huh. My own beloved mother, born in Warsaw, had the good fortune to reside in that infamous country club known as “the ghetto.” My dearest darling was one of twelve siblings. Six, including Mom, made it to America in 1937. (Guess that was good for me.) The remaining six got to accompany the SS to Auschwitz, where they were duly deposited (for baths, no less) in the gas chambers. They’ll be glad to know of this moral imperative. Then again, ooops, I guess they won’t! It’s nice to think that god was up there pronouncing judgement on the babies, toddlers and pre-pubescents lost in the Holocaust. This holy reward system is especially comforting to those of us with really good doses of survivor’s guilt!

I’m not even going to approach all the negative repercussions of organized religion. The finances; the birth control issues; the non-workability of celibacy stipulations; the housing & feeding of freeloaders; the deferment of personal responsibility in exchange for a “promise” of everlasting fulfillment; Etc. etc. I’ll leave those arguments for future analysis. Hey, please pass the Donation Plate. (Now, that I’ll capitalize!)
