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I graduated from Southeastern University (formerly called
Southeastern College of the Assemblies of God) in 1973, with a degree
in Biblical Studies.
I do not mention this as a way of suggesting that I am therefore
qualified to speak with some level of authority on matters biblical as
much as to indicate the extent to which I was immersed in that particular
sub-culture, a sub-culture from which I have most assuredly (and unreservedly)
removed myself.
I am of course asked about this from time to time, precisely
what my motives were for abandoning my faith, a rather compelling
decision in the minds of many (including my own) and never taken lightly.
My response to such queries invariably focuses on two elements:
honesty and/or taste.
I began to sense (during my emerging adolescence) some troubling
inconsistencies emanating from the myriad theological energies swarming
so franticly around me. The tremors in the force were compelling.
If I remember correctly, the first rumbling had its epicenter
near the quaint notion of heaven. At issue was the fact that I could not
remember that anyone had ever mentioned what exactly we were going to
do there. All of the talk was focused only on getting to that
land of pristine real estate. I could not recall a single mention of any
sort of daily activities that might be under way in that realm of endless
holiday.
So what did I do? I asked my mother about it. I will never
forget her discouraging answer. Without hesitation, she replied, "Praise
God."
My primary parent (for very good reasons she had divorced
my father), who I implicitly trusted, blithely assured me that we would
be spending eternity praising God.
As an active youth, intensely involved in all the popular
sports (even in the not-so-popular sports for that time of gymnastics
and soccer), not to mention the irresistible force of my growing attraction
for the opposite sex, I was disheartened to say the least. The proverbial
wind had been taken clean out of my sails.
Praising God? Was she kidding? That was it?
Of all the moments I wish I could re-live, that would certainly
be one of them. We never command the perspicacity to say what we should
have said. In the wisdom of hindsight, what I should have said was, "Define
praise."
If praising God would have somehow embraced the Eastern
concept of immersing yourself in your daily rituals and pastimes (like
girls and baseball), then I would have never left the fundamentalist faith
that I virtually wallowed in for years. Instead of being the caustic skeptic
that I turned out to be, I would instead very likely be a pastor of some
little country church (more involved in the baseball team than the weekly
sermon).
But the Eastern Way was not so popular in the early sixties.
(In this time of terror, it is perhaps even less popular.)
All of this is my way of saying that I began to develop
a keen distaste for the religious palate that my family preferred.
And then there's the honesty factor ...
There was a lot of talk about demons and demon possession
in the Church of God. It was all very troubling stuff (to say the least).
I will never forget a moment at home, shortly after sunrise (while everyone
else was still in bed), when I was looking out the door window at our
yard and driveway. I remember that the thought of devils and angels suddenly
crossed my mind. And then it hit me. It was almost a miracle of sorts.
It occurred to me that I did not see any devils or angels. I
only saw clouds and sky, trees and grass and so on.
On a deeper level, I also realized at that moment (although
I did not give voice to it) that devils and angels were only words that
I had heard from the lips of human beings. And all of the human beings
that I had heard speak such words were helpless fearful souls, pathetically
undereducated.
I do not have a taste for God. I much prefer that there
not be such an Entity. And it matters not in the least how perfectly good
IT might be. Benevolent or otherwise, I don't much care for dictators.
I also do not like the thought of a closed universe,
which is what is really being suggested by those who go around saying,
"There's a reason for everything," whenever something bad happens.
To suggest that there is a reason for everything is to imply
that the universe was constructed, designed by a Master Architect, Who
made a place for everything and put everything in its place, and when
IT was all done stood back and made a comment about how "good"
it was.
I consider this to be patent nonsense. The
universe is wide open, which means that things do not necessarily happen
for a reason. Sometimes (as the popular bumper sticker so brazenly puts
it) shit happens. And if there were a "reason" for it, wouldn't
that make it worse?
In the same vein, there is no reason to propose that a Supreme
Being made the universe. There may be a desire to make such a proposal,
but there is certainly no reason (in the sense of a rationale) to do so.
In short, people believe in God because they want to, not
because they have any legitimate rationale. And they choose not to believe
in God for the same reason, because they do not wish to.
As an abstract concept, God is beyond any sort of human
rationale. Any position taken with regard to IT can only be one of faith,
and faith is based - ultimately - on desire.
There are no reasons (in the realm of human behavior). There
is only desire (or taste).
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