The University of Memphis is frequented by Gideons
that hand out Bibles
to students as they walk to class. I usually give a smile, a "no thank-you" and walk on. What would I do with a small Bible
of the New Testament? Usually I end up throwing them in a drawer somewhere and that drawer is getting full. And I think there is something scarily sac religious about throwing away a Bible
, so I always decline. Usually the Gideons are polite and brush me off as some headed to hell whore that they shouldn't worry with. Fine with me. I couldn't care less. Today however, I was not so lucky.
Gideon (that's going to be his name) said to me, after I declined, "Child, my fellow brothers and I do not want to see your soul damned to hell for all eternity. Please take this Bible." I smiled and said, "That's impossible b/c there is no such thing as hell." Gideon looked at me as if I had just ran over his mother with a John Deere tractor. I wished him a good day and made my way to class.
Here is my problem: That's fine if you have beliefs. Way to go. Do what you want. But don't threaten me because I see things differently than you do.
And I don't believe in Heaven or Hell. I see them as fucked up scare tactics to keep good Christians in line. Be good and go to church everyday and you will go to heaven. God will then love you and welcome you into this paradise called Heaven. Be naughty and have premarital sex and drink in excess and you can rot in hell. God hates you wants to see you suffer. Does no one else see the holes in this logic?
And what really pisses me off about this whole thing, is that people are very scared to talk about religion. If you tell everyone that you don't believe in Heaven or Hell you are automatically an atheist and you are to be feared. And the people that are damning you are good little Christians but only on Sundays. These people think they are somehow above you b/c they take their place on the pew once a week. Okay?
I used to go to church 3 times a week when I was a child. Why? Because I was forced to. When I was 16, my father told me that since I was old enough to drive I was old enough to decided whether or not I wanted to go to church. I never went again after that. I was always bored and I went for the wrong reasons anyway. I was also confused as to why it mattered if I was there or not b/c my father would fall asleep during the service anyway and I would just sit there and or write notes to my friends or write little stories. I didn't and still don't see the point in going if you aren't paying attention. It wasn't until recently, I found out why.
I was this past Easter, and my mother attempted to call and wake me up telling me to get up, I needed to go to church. It was Easter Sunday. Why? I asked. I haven't gone in years, why all of a sudden today? This was her response: "Well Sue's daughters always come on Easter Sunday. Do you know how this makes me look?" OH! I got it now. It isn't about anyone dying on the cross to save us from our sins, it's about how it looks to your friends. I gotcha. I then said, "It's good to know that I am going for the right reasons." I then hung up the phone and went back to sleep. Thanks mom for making me see the light.