a house built on sand
While growing up in South Carolina, I took my faith quite seriously, as did my family, and most of my childhood friends. By age 18, I had attended over 1,000 catholic masses and had spent 12 years in catholic schools where I endured approx. 1,620 hours of religion classes. Despite what my parents may think of me now, having become a non-believer, most of my early life was spent in the arms of the church, under the guidance of some incredible teachers, whom I remember fondly and continue to respect. By no means does this make me an expert on religious faith, catholic doctrine, or biblical interpretation. Rather, I simply wish to show you that my own internal dialogue with and about god as well as my relationship with the formal church began very early in my life and has since expanded and developed as I have grown older.
I do not claim that my catholic upbringing validates my opinions or perspectives. Rather, I hope the nature of my upbringing conveys an important truth that I experienced — that catholicism is more than just faith or doctrine. A real catholic faith involves an intellectual and honest discussion with god. It is a culture of truth-seeking in which I have always felt comfortable asking tough questions and playing devil’s advocate (pun-intended). Catholics believe that the church contains the fullness of the truth, which is comprised of two things: scripture and apostolic tradition, as manifested in the teaching authority of the church. Specific beliefs are usually philosophically complicated or deep, and often co-dependent on each other, weaving together what is called the “fullness of the truth.” I explain this concept to say that catholic beliefs are not easily or often defeated/undermined by technicalities, contradictions, or any basic argument you’d be able to muster. They tend to require a high level of biblical and liturgical aptitude to discuss with meaning. They are large, weighty, endlessly studied and explained by church scholars.
In this same vein, I would say that my arguments against catholic beliefs are not simple nor are they technical. My arguments are the manifestation of the life I’ve lived up to this point. They have been discussed between me and my peers, they have been refined and have flourished into a stable framework for future religious consideration. My “arguments” are indeed based on my unique perspective, but also on my god-given nature to analyze and reason through logic, a nature that I believe is shared by most on a search for truth. I would urge you to view this essay as a discussion or a sharing of ideas, rather than an argument with any particular motive. I do not have the definitive solution or answer to religion, but I seek to initiate a dialogue by which I can accurately present what I now understand. I ask that my readers earnestly try to see the world in my shoes, but also to stay firmly in your own shoes. Your unique identity and perspective are invaluable to me, as they are apart from my own.
This discussion focuses on the narrative of Christian salvation. It focuses on the creation of man, his flawed nature, and his ultimate salvation through christ, the savior and redeemer.
the need to be saved
Let’s start at the beginning with the story of the creation of humankind.
In the biblical creation story, Adam and Eve are created by god and everything is great. However, Adam and Eve ultimately choose to disobey god. This is a huge deal, and as punishment, they are cast out of paradise. Viewed on its own, this story can be understood as a classic parenting scenario: the authority/creator/parent has told the underling/human/child to not do something, and yet the underling/human/child has chosen to violate the instructions and does what is forbidden. As such, god reacts to the disobedience by choosing to exclude the sinners from paradise. The “casting out of eden” is a form of condemnation, the result of judgement before the creator.
But more than a dramatic tale about a father and his disobedient children, the creation story has a larger significance as the story of the fall of all men (and women, of course). It is not as simple as “man screws up and god punishes him (pretty harshly) for his disobedience.” If it were, then the conclusion of the story would be that when we humans mess up, we can expect immediate and lasting consequences. Obviously, bad things don’t always happen to bad people and god does not dole out punishments in this manner. Rather, the church’s view still posits that the fall of man had lasting effects on humanity, or a legacy. In the creation story, god indeed condemns Adam and Eve, but there’s much more to the story.
original sin
What is that impact exactly? Catholic doctrine says that due to the fall of Adam and eve, each human being is born with what is called “original sin,” often described to small, khaki- and polo-sporting catholic schoolchildren as a “scar on our soul.” This legacy, or scar, is pervasive and persistent, worn by every human being. Let’s first consider the belief that the actions of two individuals has left a lasting impact on all of humanity.
When god condemned Adam and Eve, we understand that he also condemned each and every human who would follow. This leads many to what seems like an obvious question, but may not necessarily be for all, which is: why would the creator of humankind perpetuate a punishment unto others? Could he be transferring the culpability or guilt of Adam and Eve to all of us? If that’s the case, that doesn’t seem fair. Why am I responsible for their sins? However, we can rest assured that this is not the case. The church openly says that, no, this original sin is not the generalization or transferral of Adam and Eve’s sin unto you and me. OK, that’s certainly good, but what then is going on here? What is this sin that all humans are born with, that is attributed to the fall of man?
The author the creation story, who was indeed a human being, surely understood human nature well enough to understand the concept of free will, or the ability choose our actions. Could the author be telling us a story about human free will, rather than disobedience? If we are to learn anything from Adam and Eve, the most obvious lesson now becomes how Adam and Eve used their free will against god. But our question about original sin remains: what is it? why does there exist a lasting condemnation for all of man? and you, little schoolchild, in your scuffed but uniform-compliant classic Reeboks, are condemned as well. If the story of creation is a story not about sin but about free will, then it seems natural to view the persistent condemnation or judgement as tied to that expression of free-will. It may be that the condemnation experienced by all of man is tied to the possession of human free-will. So far in this narrative, humankind is prohibited from paradise not for the disobedience of a few but seemingly for their continued capacity to disobey or sin — that is, their free-will. Unfortunately, if we check with the church, this isn’t it. As nice as it would be for the anti-religion argument, this logic is not the explanation for the original sin we each possess at birth. The church decries this conclusion explaining that you cannot be guilty for sins committed by others (transference of culpability), nor can you be guilty for the mere capacity to sin. OK, that’s good to hear, but we’re back to square one. How can we understand the lasting impact of Adam and Eve? What is original sin?
What do we already know about original sin? For one, we know that it’s a big deal. The church views original sin on par with “real” sin, that is, sin that one commits and for which one bears responsibility. Being a real sin, original sin has grave implication for one’s soul and one’s salvation. Thus, it becomes crucial that we understand exactly what it is for which we’re damned.
We find in the catholic catechism (the summary of all catholic beliefs) that the church specifically defines original sin as “privation of grace” — an very important term in all of this — which can be understood as the absence or lack of god’s “sanctifying grace” within one’s soul. Being the precedent for salvation, this concept is the heart and soul of christianity and should be taken seriously. Humanity is condemned by god, not for the transference of guilt, not for the free will capable of sin, but for possession of original sin. The original sin “committed” by each soul at birth is the lack of god’s grace. Before I move to my next point, I would like to explore this concept of inherent sin and punishment for the inherent sin. The church claims that each person is born in a state of original sin, or in a privation of grace, or in the absence of god’s grace. For example, a newborn baby, who was just with the creator only 9 months ago, enters this beautiful world with what the church has often referred to as a stain on it’s soul and is culpable not for the sins of Adam and Eve or for its capacity to sin, but for this unholy state of existence in which the infant finds itself. It is this unholy state that needs remedying. God condemns the soul of the new human because it lacks his grace.
The next point to which my mind naturally goes is why souls (people) would be born into this unholy state? It is very obviously not a good thing and is important enough to necessitate some sort of intervention. If it’s so serious, why are people unwittingly born into it? Do they know that this sin condemns them for life? We will return to this point later on, but next we will consider the idea of a savior, who has come to forgive this original sin or to alleviate this unholy state.
enter savior (god)
We’ve established that in the salvation narrative, humans are in possession of and guilty of something called original sin. This original sin is described by the church as the “privation of grace.”
In my own mind, it’s an awfully sad thing for all of humanity to be born guilty, undeserving, and condemned by its very own creator. Humanity certainly did not create itself, and on the individual level, a person does not willingly bring oneself into existence when born into the world. No one asks to be born, much less born in this state of guilt. But everything we’ve read so far says that when god creates a new person, there is something deep and lasting on their soul, that is, an absence of his sanctifying grace, which effectively condemns the new person and bars them from entering his paradise. But, surely, it can’t actually be as bad as it sounds. God can’t be upset forever, can he?
Catholicism and other christian faiths are based on the premise that jesus came to earth in order to save humanity. This belief is quite central to christianity, and though it would take ages to consolidate the immensely complex doctrine on the identity, meaning, and purpose of christ, we can still have a reasonable and mindful discussion of what we can understand. There’s no need for us to get too philosophical or scholarly in order to understand the essence of who christ is and incorporate him into the salvation narrative. My personal understanding of christ is based on my many encounters with him via scripture, my parents, church, school, teachers, priests, and even my friends . On any given day in my upbringing, you’ll find that jesus was prayed to, thanked, invoked, or discussed. In my home state of South Carolina, you can read his name on street signs, pamphlets, and even bumper stickers.
Every third Friday of November, as if on queue, our multifaceted society begins a coordinated expression of winter holiday celebration. Of the several winter holidays, none are as widely propagated as the christian holiday of christmas, which marks the birth of the christian messiah, jesus. If you listen to the carols that flood our radio stations and department stores, you will notice a common lyrical theme within the fanciful melodies, which is that christ, our savior, is born. In verse 17 of chapter 3 of the book of john, the author states, “For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him…” Before continuing, let me note that I do not consider biblical quotation as a fair basis for an argument such as this, especially from a book that has as many interpretations as I have tweets. Quotes can be taken out of context, read literally when they shouldn’t, or interpreted differently than what a religious consensus would proclaim. I do not reference such quotes with the intention of bible quoting my way to the truth. However, in the context of christ, we have a plentitude of resources to influence our understanding of who he was. The quote above is similar to others in that jesus is quite often described as the savior and redeemer of all mankind. In order for christ to qualify as a savior, humans must be in a state that needs saving. As we progress through this narrative, we must look to the christian savior. What did christ do exactly? More specifically, what is the meaning of what he did approx. 2000 years ago?
baptism & religion
We’ve established that in the christian narrative, humans are in possession of and guilty of something called original sin. This original sin is described by the church as the “privation of grace.” Now, let’s explore the idea of the savior who cleanses us of our sins.
In dealing with the fall of man, the catechism of the catholic church sheds even more light on this narrative. It says that prior to jesus, jews (people of the old testament) had tried to understand the “pathos of the human condition,” but that they could not do so. It is saying that without jesus, it’s not really possible to understand the original sin that we possess as humans. It goes on to say that the ultimate meaning of this original sin, what humans could not understand previously, can now be understood in the context of christ-based salvation.
They essentially concede that, “Yes — we were damned for so long, and for so long, it didn’t make any sense. We were guilty, but we didn’t really know for what. But now, now that we’ve seen and understood Christ, our sin makes sense! We were guilty of not having your grace, which you have now restored to us!” I intentionally misquote the church with this imaginative language not to mock the church or the belief, but to offer up an additional perspective of the truth in the concept I am trying to convey.
The catholic catechism defines baptism as “the basis of the whole Christian life, the gateway to life in the Spirit and the door which gives access to the other sacraments.” In this sense, the christian baptism is the initiation rite into the christian faith, which includes sacraments, rituals, and many other cultural attributes. In the bible, one finds the apostle Peter saying, “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” The catholic catechism explains this even further saying that “Through the Holy Spirit, Baptism is a bath that purifies, justifies, and sanctifies.” Given that human beings are born with and culpable for original sin, baptism can be understood as an extension of what jesus did for christians. Baptism undoes the privation of grace experienced by unbaptized humans. Baptism restores the sanctifying grace of god, that which was previously lost, which “forgives” us of our original sin. Now that we understand what christ did and what baptism does, let’s think back to the human state of deprivation or “privation.”
The word “privation” is defined as “a state in which things that are essential for human wellbeing such as food and warmth are scarce or lacking (i.e. a poor village that is deprived of resources lives in privation).” With this in mind, we are to understand that the birth and death of jesus forgave man his original sin. It forgave man for his state of deprivation, for the lack of gods grace. If we carry this logic a bit further, we are to first understand that mankind is inherently deprived (by god) of something that also happens to be necessary for our souls (designed by god). But we shouldn’t fear for our souls, because we have already been saved (by god).
who is responsible for the stain on our souls
This brings us to what I believe is the one remaining question to consider: who is responsible for the privation in which humans find themselves upon birth? Is it our fault, or is it god’s? if the responsibility lies with humankind, then we can see Adam and Eve as forcing god’s hand and that it is truly mankind’s fault for bringing upon itself the deep stain on its soul, which would preclude us from eternal salvation. However, if god is the responsible party, then we are to understand that god actively withholds his grace from those new souls with the full knowledge that this holy grace is necessary for the human soul and required in order to enter paradise.
Let’s consider the latter, which is that god is the culpable party for having withheld his graces or that his inaction towards new souls seems unwarranted. Even reading that explanation sounds bizarre, and it is certainly not an explanation that the church would support. This explanation may even imply that the “savior” sent by god was in a sense an apology or a back-track, as if to make up for the mistake he made at the dawn of time, by reintroducing humans to his grace and love. Though this idea is actually quite interesting and I would love to explore it further, it is not within the realm of christian belief or understanding of salvation, and so, we must continue.
Let’s consider the former, which is that humankind is the culpable party, responsible for the deprivation of grace it experiences and that god’s inaction is indeed just. Of the two possibilities, the church is most likely to defend this explanation. Though it will concede that god does indeed withhold his grace from humanity, it would also argue that the god’s deprivation is not necessarily born out of himself. It would argue that somehow, humankind’s fallen nature brings this inaction upon itself. You may be thinking, “Hey that’s not fair,” and you’d be totally right. However, the church would also quickly remind us both that god freely offers his grace and the salvation it begets to all who ask for it. Strictly speaking, this is achieved by means of a christian baptism, and through the continued faith and good works of the individual. This gets at the heart of the circular reasoning that upholds the salvation narrative.
That circular reasoning is this: god justly withholds his grace from each new human. the human is considered sinful in the eyes of god because of the human’s lack of saving grace that is necessary for its god-given soul. Humans are now in need of saving, and god aptly reinserts himself into the narrative as the one who will redeem mankind from this unfortunate state. He accomplishes this redemption by dying on the cross and extending the same saving grace through sacramental baptism, as defined by the organized faith that he has established on Earth. And only now that human beings are redeemed and forgiven of their original sin, can they enter into the kingdom of god. God bestows the original sin, and he resolves the original sin. The doctrine of christian salvation is a belief that insists upon itself by fabricating a narrative in which humans are missing something that which is necessary, and completing that narrative with the restoration of that which it claims humans are missing.
final thoughts
Christian belief surrounding christ and human salvation are founded on the false pretense that humans need and continue to need saving. The necessity for salvation is a belief constructed within the confines of the religion itself and using its own terms. Because of this, I find it hard to believe in the narrative that creates a need and then profiting by the fulfillment of that need, a fulfillment only it can offer. My problem with the christian salvation narrative goes beyond the circular reasoning on which it rests, but extends to the high stakes used by the church to guard membership. An innocent human who does not believe in christian teachings and does not receive baptism is, by any christian definition, damned to hell. I would like to emphasize one final point: this all makes sense. Every bit of this is understandable. I can totally see why a system of beliefs would be designed in such a way. More telling are the way that the system focuses and directs its followers inward toward itself, warning its followers of the suffering and death that waits for outside of it.
Human free will, as well as our ability to reason logically, perceive morality, visualize beauty, etc. are characteristics that define us as human beings. Though I do not often use the words “I believe” often, I firmly believe that no human being is born into this world guilty. I will not accept a description of spiritual life on earth that understands the human soul as inherently guilty, punishable, and necessitating redemption by the same creator who has handed down the damning judgement.
the starfish and you
Below I have included a short story that reinterprets and fictitiously depicts the version of christian salvation, as I understand it.
Imagine you during your typical day: you may go to class or to work, you’ll eat a few meals, you’ll check Instagram, talk to some friends, and ultimately, come home and sleep. In the middle of this night, you hear a knock on your apartment door. Barely conscious, you stumble out of your bedroom, tripping over your roommate’s guitar left in the hall, until you finally land at the front door. You brush away the thought that this could be a front-door-knocking, midnight-murderer outside, and you reach for the handle and open the door. Standing in front of you, is nothing. You poke your head outside the door, turning it left, seeing nothing. Turning it right, seeing nothing. You squint your eyes until you’ve inspected the entire length of the fluorescently lit hallway.
“Ahem.”
You startle and immediately look to the source of the sound, which came from your feet. Below you stands an orange-yellow colored starfish. The starfish is standing on two points, dressed in a police uniform, and looking right at you as you stare, dumbfounded, back at it. Before you can vocalize your disbelief or surprise, the starfish pushes you aside and enters your apartment. You hear the keys at his side jingle as he makes his way into your living room. “Excuse me?!” you shout from the doorway, “Can I help you?!” The starfish ignores your rude tone and sits on the couch.
“Sit.”
You look around the apartment, desperate for someone to confirm that you are simply hallucinating, and that this, in all likelihood, is a dream, but your roommates don’t seem to have stirred (they happen to be muslim). You finally relent, shut the door, and seat yourself across from the starfish, still unsure if you’re hallucinating. “Yes? What do you want? Why are you wearing a police uniform? Who are you? What are you?”
“Son, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’re going to prison. Now, please get your things.”
“What?!? Prison? For what?? What did I do??”
“Shhhhhhhhhh…” The starfish continues to look at you. “You’re not a citizen, sir . You see, you haven’t got the right paperwork. Specifically, you’re missing your starfish papers. Without starfish papers, you’re heading to prison.”
the rattle of his handcuffs hits you like bricks, and your heartbeat doubles in pace.
“No!! What “starfish” papers? I don’t know what you’re talking about! I was born right here in the U.S., I’m sure they just got lost! Why wouldn’t I have them?”
Your voice is sounding frenzied, your arms flail while you try to speak, and in the back of your mind you wonder where the hell your roommates are.
“I swear! What do I need to do? Do I need to apply?!”
The starfish-officer stands and comes over you. You see something in his small starfish eyes. Mercy, maybe. He sweetly touches your cheek with his point, slightly wet from your drool. He looks at you as if you were his own child. He lowers his point, and extends it out to you. You grasp the point, prickly and wet from your cheek drool, yet weirdly comforting. He brings you to your feet.
“As chief starfish, only I have the power to grant starfish papers.”
His words echo slightly in the bare-walled living room your poor and conflicted taste has allowed to exist. You start to speak, but you falter and your voice fades. You don’t know what to say. What can you say? He’s lying, clearly. But he’s also a talking starfish. You don’t know what to believe, much less what to say back to this officer, err starfish.
“I care deeply for you, and I do not want to see you in prison. Out of my mercy, I will give you this amulet. This is no ordinary amulet. If you choose to wear it, this amulet will protect you. With it comes amnesty, and you will be acquitted of the charges you face in court.”
You look to the amulet and back to the starfish. Clearly, you must be going crazy because a) there’s no such thing as an “ordinary” amulet and b) a starfish is offering you an amulet to escape prison. At this point, your mind rewinds as you recount the prior evening. Surely, you took shrooms before bed… Shit, you haven’t done shrooms in weeks. Could it be a delayed reaction? You’ve heard of crazy stuff like that happening, chemicals trapped in your spinal fluid or something?
“I give you this life-saving amulet out of the goodness of my starfish heart. By taking it, you will be spared the prison sentence that you deserve. By taking it, you also acknowledge that I am the most mighty starfish officer in all of the land, and you must devote your entire life to me and live according to my instruction. I have written everything down on this shopping-list notepad. You will live your life according to these words.”
Suddenly, you feel as if the drapes have been lifted. Your heartbeat slows, your muscles relax, and you stop recounting every hallucinogen you’ve ever taken. You look down at the starfish standing in your living room and attempting to extort you.
“Yeah… OK. Maybe. Let me just make sure that I understand you correctly, officer. You’re saying that if I don’t take this amulet and do what your notepad commands, I will go to prison? For life?”
“Yes, my son.”
OK — weird that he keeps calling you son. You continue on.
“I see, and if I take this amulet of yours, I must pledge myself to you, correct? I must live out the rest of my life in gratitude and thanksgiving for the mercy that you’ve bestowed upon me with this amulet?”
“Yes, my son.”
“I see. Yes, you need to get out of my apartment.”
“Excuse me? Will you take the amulet or not?”
“OK — seriously, I have work in the morning, and this? Well, this isn’t real. And you? You’re definitely not real.”
“Son, I am telling you, you are making a grave mistake. I am warning you!” his small starfish voice rising for the first time.
You ignore his responses and walk over to him. You bend over, cup your hands together, and scoop him up.
“Listen!” you whisper into your hands. “I have to go to bed!” You walk back to the door, open it, and you set him down on the welcome mat where you found him. You close the door, you go to bed, the world spins on.