End of the Line?

I realize that being an atheist means disbelief in any god and (arguably) nothing more. I agree. However, just as with believing in some god or other relates to religious practices, not believing likewise calls for answers to questions regarding that non-belief, at least to oneself if to no one else.

This is especially true if a change such as deconversion was involved. Answers may take any form from I don’t know to hypothetical suppositions, or even well-supported theories. It can get murky, but that seems to excite those who think they see the light.

For example, I don’t know what happens after someone dies. Neither do you. For now, barring evidence to the contrary, I assume death means you’re gone. Body, mind, and spirit: kaput. All other possibilities and claims are unsupported hypotheses of approximately equal value. The continuation of the human spirit might be so, but there is no evidence for that.

While not all believers resort to threats of punishment to be carried out after people stop living, such as Purgatory or Hell, a great many do. I realize that many believers manage to focus on life, “right here, right now.” I say that and believe it. I can meet them there.

Yet, just as with the existence of any god, afterlife of any kind, spiritual as with a “soul,” in some unknown form of consciousness, or even physically as in reincarnation, not one of the seven billion or so people alive today can be certain of anything concerning death other than it is not quite the same life as it was. Even the concepts of human resurrection with the second coming, or rapture do not promise a redo. Die and you’re done—not alone. Just finished with living.

My mother was a lifelong Roman Catholic. I recall her, while lucid but dying, lying on her death bed, after I asked if she wanted me to fetch a (Catholic) priest, saying to me, “When you’re dead, you’re dead.” She died without receiving last rights. Yikes, Mom! Why didn’t you tell me?

Afterlife is crucial to all Christianity. The biggest Holy Day in any Christian’s liturgical year should be Easter: The Resurrection of Christ. Life after death (not Christmas).

As the sign in my neighbor’s yard says, “He is risen.” The largest single religion on Earth, and the evidence for its rationale has been an unnecessary nothing for two-thousand years. The neighbor’s sign is not very convincing. But the beat goes on. Salvation is unnecessary if you cease to exist. Unless…

Bill

Essay: On Praying

You can read about atheists being offended by prayer. Most of what I’ve seen was written by religious interpreters who seem to know what we think and what our motivations are. In my opinion, few skeptics find praying offensive. Anyone who comes from a religious background has probably prayed. I think it’s a waste of time. However, prayer can be troublesome.

Does It Even Make Sense?

I used to pray often. As a practicing Catholic, I was expected to pray to god’s three persons and dead people. I prayed to various saints who are dead souls in Heaven, and for those not there yet, but who are in Purgatory.

I’ve asked for things or prayed as a form of worship or self-punishment, called penance assigned by a priest after confession. I prayed for “the repose of the soul(s)” without knowing exactly what the hell that meant or why I was praying for it. I prayed without a logical thought as to exactly what I was praying for. Most often, I simply prayed to pray or because others were.

You may ask, so what? Is praying harmful? Did it do any good? Was it beneficial to me or to someone else? Was time spent in any form of prayer wasted and silly?

Ironically, I thought everything happened because a spiritual consciousness caused it. I assumed I was praying to a god responsible for everything that happened: a god who knew everything, was everywhere, and had everyone’s best interest in mind.

Yet, prayer was a crutch for me. Even today, I can hear my mind thinking, “Please don’t let this be happening…” Who or what is that plea addressed to? A god or the universe? Is prayer a habit?

“Everything happens for a reason.” That mild form of predestination doctrine is what many people say, most often regarding some undesirable event. Of course, no reason is ever given and one is seldom discovered except in some shoehorning effort to make it fit religiously.

Before I accepted my own atheism, although I prayed, I thought it was kind of dumb. However, since so many of us seemed to do it and thought it worked (all evidence to the contrary), I prayed hard and long. I gave blessings, I prayed over graves of loved ones, I prayed for sick people, for friends and enemies, and sometimes for things other people asked me to pray for, like for them or rain. Whatever I needed to do to persuade the eternal supreme entity to do differently, I gladly did. I carried a pocket notebook of things and people I wanted to pray about so I would not forget.

I no longer pray because I’m almost certain there are no gods, no saints, no spirits who care, or any receivers of my message. Additionally, if I did believe in any of that or thought it was likely, I would still not pray because it accomplishes nothing.

Do I care if other people pray?

Usually, I don’t. Sometimes I do. Prayers and praying can be annoying, especially when staged for living witnesses to see and thereby to be affected or persuaded. Prayer is especially annoying when my cooperation and/or participation is in some way socially expected.

On its own, prayer seems innocuous enough. However, even the bible (new testament) decries staged, showoff, holier than thou praying (Matthew 6:1-34). Must I wait to eat while someone prays? Why? May I talk while they talk to a god? May I take a drink of my beer? If I don’t want to hold someone’s hand while they pray, am I being rude? The act of praying does not make someone special or privileged. But it is fine if one assumes so. Just leave me out of it.

I consider people’s praying as I do when they do yoga or meditate. I consider most yoga and meditation beneficial to the person doing them. I am neither offended nor distracted by it. I simply don’t care. I don’t expect them to interrupt my evening, disturb my meal, or want to hold any of my body parts while they contemplate existence or do a downward facing dog. I’ve never heard of someone blocking an emergency exit while chanting a mantra or standing on one foot.

No one has ever said to me, “I’ll meditate for you.” And while no yoga pose has been entered for my recovery, I did appreciate when friends and family said they would be sending me healing energy and good vibes. Their sincere concern helped me feel better, and perhaps to recover. I’ve told friends that I would be thinking of them during their surgery and I hoped they would have a speedy recovery. “Get well soon.” Praying is not person to person. It invokes the will of spirits and that’s woo-woo.

When people say they will pray for me, I request, “Please don’t.” I’m not offended if they do. I just take a pass on prayers.

While I’m unconcerned with how people spend their time trying to change some god’s mind, I think it’s silly. Their intention may be good, but why can’t they accept that I reject all prayers?

What is the bigger picture?

Another problem is the package deal. Prayer is not an isolated independent action done by one person to the benefit of another. Except for children and people manipulated into it, no one is forced to pray. If nothing else changed and everyone just stopped praying, would some deity get pissed off?

Many believers think so (all evidence, etc.). It’s not so much that prayer is part of a belief in god and a person’s relationship with some god. Prayer is distinctly tied to a religion and often to a specific denomination.

On the other hand, when people have asked me to pray for them (or for rain in one case), I sometimes will. They seldom ask, but I do see or hear the occasional request. While I don’t believe in their (or any) god, that does not mean I don’t care enough about them to offer up a prayerful blurb or two. I consider saying or thinking “God help you” as praying. I am also willing to yoga up the cat pose or contemplate a nirvanic eternity, if someone were to ask me (no one has).

The problem I see with praying is the package or the bigger picture. When organized religion, personal religious beliefs, or cult-like attachments influence people, it is more than simply praying. If someone prays for me to believe in god, is it acceptable for me to pray or to wish that they stop believing in god?

Must I adapt my behavior to the praying behavior of others (holding hands, being quiet, closing my eyes)? Does your right to practice your religion (freedom of religion) trump my right not to (freedom from religion)? If I decline an offer to pray for me, have I offended them simply because I think differently? If it is my opinion that people who pray are wasting their time, sometimes mine, and offering an opinion different than mine, is it acceptable for me to say so?

The prayer playing field is not level. It’s sloped in favor of those who pray even by some who don’t. What harm does it do? In most cases it threatens my freedom from religion. It is often staged “look at me” behavior and begs for someone to be easily offended.

Bill

Why I didn’t become Atheist

Why write this?

I read something yesterday on Rebekah’s blog that triggered me to think about how I express things about myself. I decided to write and post this.

Background

Like everyone else, I was born without an opinion regarding the existence of a deity, a spirit realm, death, life afterwards, or any belief in a god. You could say I was born a passionate human agnostic about everything, but neutral about religion. That was 74 years ago to the day (happy birthday to me).

Eight days later I was baptized by a priest in a Roman Catholic Church. This event guaranteed my acceptance into Heaven, if I should die. Otherwise, it was eternity in Limbo, where the unbaptized but sinless souls allegedly went forever.

Baptism added a godfather and godmother to my religious life, in the unlikely event that my parents could not raise me as Catholic. They did.

My status

I was a Roman Catholic Christian whether I liked it or not. That situation lasted for sixty-some years. When I embraced atheism, my status was automatically changed to excommunicated, which means that I am excluded from the rights of church membership. I may not receive any of the seven sacraments. I’ve had six.

While my Catholic membership card is technically cancelled, I may still do virtually everything that is not specifically sacramental. I’ve not been shunned. It’s not a cult.

To undo this, I would merely need to re-claim my membership by denying my atheism. Complete re-conversion would be through the Sacrament of Penance (confession with a priest) and subsequent participation in the Sacrament of Eucharist (going to Mass and taking Holy Communion). I’ve done this process a couple other times in my life due to long lapses in my religious participation, called falling-away, non-practicing, or practical atheism.

When I reconciled before, the process was spiritually uplifting, fun, rewarding, guilt-relieving, interesting, and mildly embarrassing. It was also easy. The saying goes, once Catholic, always Catholic. I’m no longer that, sayings notwithstanding.

No regrets

I hold no animosity toward the Catholic Church or any of its people. However, I am irreconcilably pissed off about the Church’s history. I would still punish many bishops and priests for their culpability during the ongoing sexual abuse scandals.

I know church history well. I fully understand why people are religious. I accept it. I think they are wrong, but they’re not bad people. I wish they could similarly accept my conclusions to the degree that I do theirs.

I’m mindful that in many parts of the world, I could be killed for my outspoken atheism. Those who would do that are supported (and defended) by scripture, either Biblical or Koranic. That’s how religion works.

What I say and what I don’t

I have never said, I became a Christian or I got (or was) saved. I never said there was a day or time when I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. I have never referred to myself as a born-again Christian as my childhood friend, Jimmy, did.

When Jimmy died his family ensured he was buried as a Catholic. Dead people cannot receive sacraments nor can they resist the desires of the living.

I never felt superior to people of other religions or of none. If anything, living in the south (USA) I was guarded about my Catholicism.

I don’t say, I became atheist. I’ve embraced my atheism and the conclusion that god does not exist. I avoid prefacing things by saying as an atheist. I do not say something all atheists agree on. They do not. Except by coincidence, all atheists agree on nothing. I can only speak for myself.

I’m just sayin’

As with anyone who may have been born into a secular life, I was atheist first.

My baptism made me Catholic. I didn’t become anything. Roman Catholic is my legacy, heritage, and birthright. I prefer to call it Irish-Catholic. They know why.

I have no issue with anyone saying, I became atheist or became anything. Unfortunately, atheism is one of those words that define people by what they are not more than by what they are. Since atheism means one does not believe in any god, it’s not like becoming Methodist, an artist, a romantic, or depressed.

Bill

The Bible: There is no such thing

The Catholic Mass liturgy includes three Old Testament (OT) readings, a selection from the prophets, and three readings from the New Testament (NT) to include Acts, the Catholic or Pauline Epistles, and the Gospels. During Christmas and Easter, a fourth is added for the evening service.

Growing up Catholic, I never had to read a bible. In the three-year liturgical cycle, I heard virtually the whole of Christian scripture read to me. In my eight years of parochial school, I took mandatory Religion and Catechism classes/courses as part the curriculum. I recall taking Bible History one year with a full-length history book to read.

I was taught the myth of Samson slaying the Philistines with the jawbone of an ass (hee-hee, back then) as historical fact. Since it is an OT story in the inerrant word of God, it must have been true.

There was no bible in my home. I doubt if many other Roman Catholics of my generation grew up reading a bible in the sense most adherents of sola scriptura (scripture alone) would understand it. We didn’t have to. A bible was read to us several times over by age 15.

How I became something of an amateur, or layman, bible study teacher (and expert?) forty years later would take too long to explain. But I was the first of such in a large Parish for about ten years. During that time, I acquired several different bibles, concordances, and various other materials that I used for learning and teaching.

The relationship people have with bibles fascinates me to this day. They claim to believe that it is the word of their god. They say it is the most important book ever written. Many have not read one single word of any bible, even if they own one.

Bibles are available for free in book form, electronically, or online. There is no excuse. Read one. Yes, an atheist just suggested that you read a bible.

One guy even used a bible recently as a prop for a political photo op (to evangelical silence, if not bizarre enthusiasm). I bet he never read it, could not say what version he was holding, how many books were in it, or if the religion of the church he stood in front of would approve of the translation.

We say it. We write about it. We talk about it all the time. However, there is no it. There is only them. There are hundreds of versions of the same book(s). I’ve seen the number 450, but I doubt there are so many official versions. It’s not the bible. It’s a bible—one of them.

One reason for this is the many different translations. Another reason is the various canons, or books and scripture, that are (or are not) included as authorized. Some of what may be included is referred to as apocrypha (not really the word of god).

There are no original bible writings that we can point to as the first or even the second copy. While some old scriptures do exist, they are far from first editions.

The Bible? Which one? It’s bibles. It’s them, not it. Confused by holy scripture, version 123.666 and 50 others.

Bill

Do you believe Hell is real? That Satan is a real thing?

If you ever believed in a god or something like that, did you ever either accept or believe in the personification of evil, a being that tempts people to act or think against the wishes of a Supreme Being? A being that takes the soul of a very bad person and ensures a sort of eternal painful karma?

As a child, the demonic scapegoat was not emphasized to me. As much as I may have accepted some sort of god, I cannot recall ever going all in on the Lucifer/fallen angel myth, with one exception. The Exorcist movie scared the Hell out of me, or should I say, the fear into me? I was an adult parent with one child by then (1973 or so).

However, I probably dropped any thought of a devil or a Hell for eternal suffering long before I flushed the whole Trinity thing along with any remaining number of evil spirits. I discovered that several Catholic Priests agreed with me that at the very least, all the devil and hell stuff was nonsense cooked up to scare people. Even the Pope had said that Hell was a state after death of not being with God, not a place.

As I did the final onion peel by removing the last vestiges of religion and theistic or deistic things from my pages of mental acceptance, the first to go was related to the problem of evil, Hell as anything real before or after death, and any spirit world, either good or evil.

After I managed to get over all of that, which I only quasi-accepted in the first place, the god balloon simply popped. All religion went with it: New Age, Pantheism, Eastern Religious beliefs and philosophies, Witches, and the like. I appreciate reality and science as much as any atheist, but in no way is any of that comparable to religion or any belief in a god-like entity.

Many people want to say god is love and other worn out tropes that tell us that they probably at least downplay any concept of Hell and devils without tossing out the heavenly eternal life part. This works well for them because one merely needs to repent and all will be forgiven, at least on that side of the Christian street. I’m not sure everyone agrees.

Is belief in eternal damnation required to avoid it? If one lives a good life, is that sufficient? Believers would answer those two questions with both yes and no. I never took a course in the Sociology (or psychology) of Religion. I wish I had.

I like the idea of love or at least being neighborly and caring about people. However, when my neighbor is an asshole, I neither love her or him, nor do I care about them. In fact, I often wish karma could be real (except not applied to me). But love is still better than the other options, except…

The other two emotions I can think of that seem to have as much, or more, influence on humans are fear and hate. I am so happy that religion does not teach fear and hate. Or would that be why the Lucifer and Hell myths assume such prominence in religion, particularly Christianity and Islam, both religions of love and peace (sarcasm, in case you missed it)?

As for hate, you be the judge. Just don’t leave out the history of virtually every prominent religion on earth.

Bill

How Important is Going to Church?

Growing up in the Catholic church/faith and Saint John’s Elementary school, I was taught that if I died with a mortal sin on my soul and did not go to Confession or have Extreme Unction (Last Rites) administered by a priest, I was going straight to Hell. No passing Go and no collecting $200. I’d suffer for eternity along with Hitler, Jack the Ripper, Stalin, and all sorts of evil souls. There’d be no option for appeal or some Purgatorial negotiated deal. Eternity. Got it?

The logical problem with this dawned on me around age 13 or 14. The list of mortal sins was quite long and by that age it was normal for me to have picked up one or two each week. If you had committed one mortal sin, you might as well have done 50. Even a god could not add on more time to eternity. I had not been introduced to the concept of levels of Hell (or Heaven) at that time.

I was also taught that not going to Mass (call it church if you want) on Sunday or a Holy Day of Obligation was a mortal sin. Interestingly, it was about that 14/15ish time that I stopped going until I was busted and forced to go (I was being watched) because since it was so easy to pick up a mortal or two during the week between Confessions, well, what the hell? One more made no difference. Right?

When I returned to the good graces of the Catholic church thirty-some years later (about twenty years ago), I did so in Titusville, Florida. I was working there temporarily and decided to go through that embarrassment with a priest I would never see again. He had given me a book to read (which I did) and we had a few meetings. When a fallen away Catholic returns to the good graces of Rome, it is done through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, which is a fancy name for Confession. But it sounds right for this process.

In one of our meetings I brought up the concept of not going to Mass being a mortal sin. The priest told me that it was not a mortal sin. I told him that I was taught it was such an eternally damning sin, and the book he had given me said it was. He said that he needed to stop handing out that book. I suggested he read books before recommending them to others. He was quite a bit younger than I, so giving advice seemed apt. Anyway, not going to Mass when you can has always been a big deal (at the least), in the Catholic Church. But, the whole point of it is Communion or the Eucharist. Catholicism is nothing if not Liturgical and taking Communion is at the core of that obligation.

I don’t know if any other Christian cult/denomination thinks people go to Hell if they do not go to church. I’ve had Christians tell me they never go to church (or belong to one) and that one need not go to church to be a good Christian. Maybe the Orthodox, Polish Catholic, and a few other schismatic holdouts think so, but most Protestants and Catholics I know think church attendance on Sunday is somewhat optional. At worst, a venial (minor) sin, if at all.

Enter a highly contagious and deadly virus of the Corona family. We get this illness (COVID-19) very easily, and Americans are the world leaders in contracting it: over two million known cases today. Since sitting together (and yelling or praying or singing) for an hour in a room with someone who may be contagious may kill us, or at least infect us, church attendance (indoors and closer than six feet to one another) was placed on the list of no can dos until we get our arms around the epidemic/pandemic. Literally, not going to church was healthier than going. I love that irony.

The Jesus freaks went bat shit, fucking crazy. Lawsuits were filed. #45 and other politicians of a certain bent started yelling that church attendance was essential. I must admit, certain groups of Americans wear hypocrisy like a new Sunday suit or this year’s Easter bonnet. It looks good on them while I struggle to stop banging my head against the wall. Going to church on Sunday is, first, not essential for anyone, and second, a good way to cause unnecessary illness, hospitalization, and potentially death.

Churches do nothing for the economy, use government services/resources they do not pay for, and other than some fraternization or potluck/covered dish meals, are meaningless, even if there is a god. Hypocrites, remember? But they are essential politically. At least to some portion of the population. They were not essential six months ago. But now that it is a dangerous thing to do—going to church is vital (and god, strangely, always needs more money).

And when you ask them, “How much should we give?”
Ooh, they only answer “More! More! More!” yoh.

Even most Catholics do not believe that their god would send them to the fires of Hades if they went to play pinball instead of going to Mass. However, church attendance is the only active measure we have to determine the degree of religiosity in America. It also contributes big-time to the core concept of the mega church (go fund us). More religious and political bull shit.

Bill

A to Z Challenge 2020 (J=Justification)

Justification is a concept I don’t recall being in my metaphysical pandora’s box or my highest theological concept. I still don’t care, but I needed a word for J -day.

In the Jesus brand of theology, justification is god’s removing the guilt and penalty of sin (call it hell). If you spin your English just right, you get to go to a good place instead of the bad one. But you must have faith and believe. To Christians, this makes sense.

Since the Protestant Reformation, and probably before, justification was and area of significant disagreement. It is also an area of significant theological fault that, to this day, divides Roman Catholicism from the Lutheran and Reformed traditions of Protestantism.

Catholics, Methodists, and Orthodox distinguish between initial justification, which occurs at baptism, (ala infant baptism) and final salvation, accomplished after a lifetime of doing what you’re supposed to.

In Lutheranism and Calvinism, righteousness in the eyes of God is viewed as being credited to the sinner’s account through faith alone, without works, which maybe fodder for W-day.

My point here is that all these branches of Christianity, supposedly one religion, have fought over this woo-woo hair-splitting nonsense for reasons none of us probably care much about.

Atheists, agnostics, Muslims, Hindu, and Buddhists need not worry. There is no justification for any of this.

Bill

Essay: Good Bye, Faithful Scout

I felt slightly disappointed when I read this article stating that the organization formerly known as the Boy Scouts of America (BSA) had filed for Chapter 11 Bankruptcy. This protective action was ostensibly precipitated by BSA’s failure to manage the behavior of its leadership and members. Furthermore, Boy Scout’s attempts to be inclusively fair, if not openly and officially accepting, to LGBTQ members and leaders and to females, even going so far as changing its official name seem to have contributed to the struggle. I am uncertain about the details of all that, but it seems to me that the Boy Scouts have fallen victim to the clichéd rock and a hard place.

I was a member of BSA as were my two sons. Julie was a Brownie or something. None of us were abused, that I know of. The two troops I was associated with were each aligned with two different Christian-denomination churches. I recall using words like loyal, helpful, friendly, jamboree, scout’s honor, motto, merit badge, ranking by class (first, second, etc.), and the three-finger salute. Neither I nor my sons were inducted into the Order of the Arrow or Eagle Scouts, nor did any of us do more than eventually move on after some meetings and camping trips, although my tenure may have been longer.

One of my son’s friends was Jewish and a member of the same scout troop. My wife recalls the boy’s Jewish mother, a family friend, commenting that BSA was a Christian organization. It’s interesting how different things look from the inside of organizations, religions, and groups than they do from the outside. Organizations sponsored by churches or religions take on trappings of the sponsor, no matter the struggle for fairness.

At least one of my grandchildren was steered away from association with the Boy Scouts due, at least in part, to its religious, God and Country, core influences. Yet, ironically, it is BSA’s tie with religion, particularly with Latter Day Saints (Mormon) and other vestiges of Christianity as well, that is it’s undoing along with stacking up lawsuits and the ever-present litigation by lawyers making a living over organized misconduct. But those details don’t bother me.

What I did wonder about is why I gave a shit when I read the news. Why do I feel badly seeing an organization founded with good intentions foundering after being attacked, perhaps deservedly, from all sides, religious and secular? Intellectually and rationally, I don’t care. Some might even say I was corrupted by being a Scout, but I disagree. Yet, there is no denying how I feel emotionally.

I’ve been criticized for not regretting my religious, Roman Catholic, past. I’ve been called corrupted, ignorant, and diagnosed with cognitive dissonance by fellow atheists, none of which know me personally, for my lack of acrimonious bitching about religions. While I admit that I would not encourage anyone’s association with and participation in BSA today, I confess gratitude and a smidgen of pride for what the Boy Scouts taught me. The organization I knew is long gone. Such a group will be replaced (already has been in some arenas), but it will never be the same. Neither will I (Scout’s honor).

After that, it’s time for some Eagles. I was going to paste-in a YouTube of the song Get Over It, but I failed to find a public domain link. What is cyberspace coming to? I’m sure I’ll get over it.

Wait! I found this one. Not great, but eh. It works and cured me.

Bill

Review of the Netflix movie: The Two Popes.

Two good questions: first, why would I watch such a movie, and second, why would I take time to review it?

I could list all the religious, biblically based movies I’ve watched and assign quality ratings to each based upon my opinion. Many were action dramas packed with fiction, emotion, and story.

I could also make a list of songs I like, such as Spirit in the Sky by Norman Greenbaum, or Jesus is Just Alright by the Doobie Brothers. I don’t dismiss things simply because they involve religion, beliefs, gods, spirits, demons, or all opinions different from mine, but I have limits. Who remembers the line, Venus, goddess of love that you are? Anyone take that literally?

Religion is a big part of the world, history, and human life, especially in America, like it or not. Music and theater have become significant aspects of religion. I can deal with it. I don’t understand why people think such facts may be upsetting. Reality is not.

A friend who shares many of my opinions recommended The Two Popes movie. A few nights ago, my wife and I watched it.

This is a movie about two real people, old men who found themselves leading the largest single religious denomination on Earth: 1.2 billion Catholic people—about half of all Christians, the other half being sliced and diced into nearly 500 denominations and nondenominational “independents.”

When Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger was elected Pope in 2005, a friend asked my opinion of that. I said he would not have been my first choice. Now, almost 15 years later, I still would not support him for Pope, not that anyone cares what I think about Popes.

Pope Benedict XVI never recovered from being who he was, Joseph Aloisius Ratzinger; a bishop, cardinal, priest, and a devout Roman Catholic from the conservative right wing of the Church, and something of a semi-unlikable jerk. In February of 2013, he became the first Pope in 700 years to resign (or step aside), rather than die in office. Pope Benedict is 92.

This movie is about the interaction between Pope Benedict and the Argentinean Cardinal, Jorge Mario Bergoglio, who eventually became the now reigning Pope Francis. The latter man being from somewhere left of center, but with roots in a conservative order called the Jesuits, which may have set some cognitive dissonance loose in his mind. Flashbacks of Bergoglio’s life include romance, violence, and political intrigue. It seems the man has regrets, as does the other Pope.

I liked this movie for several reasons: it’s unpretentious, involves the human condition, and shows how human differences can be managed, albeit with limited success. The Roman and Vatican scenes are worth seeing, if less than amazing on my 60-inch LG television.

I recommend the movie to everyone. It’s for people of all religions and of none, old folks and young (maybe not children) might enjoy it, both men and women, gay and straight, stubborn and flexible will find something to like or to protest, but especially both currently active and apostate Catholics should enjoy it (all my opinion). Of course, some folks dislike pizza and ice cream. Some may not agree with my assessment. They can write their own review.

The acting is mostly great with Anthony Hopkins as Pope Benedict XVI and Jonathan Pryce as Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio (later Pope Francis). There are cameos by both real Popes.

While this is a biopic drama, it is about the relationship of two of the most powerful men on earth who see the world through diametrically different lenses for the same reasons: god, holiness, mankind, and the human condition.

It’s on Netflix. Give it a go but don’t expect manufactured dystopian drama. There are no battling Titans or walking dead, but some violence is depicted. These are real people with human emotions and experience with past trauma.

It’s not as much fun as Secondhand Lions, also about two old men (and a boy), but The Two Popes was worth my 125 minutes to sit through the PG-13 drama. It’s a good movie and I’m not the only person who thinks so. Thumbs up.

Bill

Exactly what is a Christian and who says so?

Spencer and I were walking to the car when he asked, “Are you a Christian?”

I was in my mid-twenties, been baptized, spent nine years in religious school, was married in a church by an ordained minister five years prior, was a father, and I occasionally went to church. I even spoke from the pulpit at some services because garnering community support was part of my job. I didn’t understand that Spencer’s question was a set-up.

When I said yes, his next question was, “Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?” To me this gibberish was an automatic of course, but I knew what was at the heart of his question. My Catholic response got the comment, “then you are not a Christian.”

I was, poor me, not a true Scotsman after all. What I believed and did was of no matter. It was that I needed to somehow surrender to the rules of the Southern Baptist Convention at the time.

Another time I was meeting with a childhood friend (for a time, my best) and religion came up. We’d not seen each other in about thirty years. We both grew up Catholic and attended the same religious school. His comment was, “I am a born-again Christian.” That means (is code for) he no longer considered himself Catholic. That is apostasy and heresy. Jimmy declared himself a fucking Protestant. By rule, he’d be automatically excommunicated.

Within a year or so, Jimmy died. His body was shipped home to his Catholic family. They arranged for a Catholic Funeral Mass and burial in a Catholic cemetery (consecrated ground where only Catholics still in the good graces of the Church may be interred). I don’t know if anyone else knew what he had told me. Surely his wife did. But there is saying, once Catholic, always Catholic. And much to the chagrin (or ignorance) of holier than thou folks like Spencer, Catholics are Christians. Likewise, the hundreds of other denominations, sects, and independent or nondenominational churches, that claim to be Christians. They are.

I attended Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) for a short time. In one of the men-only classroom sessions the leader of the group said, “I don’t even know anyone who is not Christian.” BSF also has women only sessions. I bet he was more flexible than Spencer.

So, barring the religion’s numerous gatekeepers who may declare anyone unfit to be Christian due to some denominational loophole, technicality, or love/hate for others, it seems that anyone who claims to be, is a Christian.

Jews for Jesus is the title of a group claiming to be Jewish. The real Jews say the group is Christian, not Jewish. If you claim Jesus was the Jewish Messiah (Messianic Jew), according to Jewish authorities, you’re not a Jew, but a Christian. The oddity here is that historically, the original Christians were members of a Jewish cult since there was no independent Christian religion at the time.

I know folks who claim to be Buddhist, but apparently are new age folks who like the ideas expressed, or allegedly postulated by Siddhartha, who was (ostensibly) Buddha. Similarly, I’ve met folks who claim to be Pagan (not atheist). Others claim to be Wiccan and some even claim to be witches. Even without latching onto a denomination, I suppose one could claim a different religion each day of the week and qualify without having to meet any standard or pay any fee.

Some religions may have hoops to jump through, such as baptism or a profession of faith, but most do not. You are what you claim. If you say you are a Christian, then that’s what you are. It doesn’t matter how you behave, what you believe, and you may be lying out your ass. It would be so much simpler today, when I can look at folks like Spencer and just say no.

So, who are those Christians, and who says so? They do. They are not just one thing. At least they seem to have stopped killing each other, for now.

While some denominations continue to grow, PEW research makes the case in this study that Christians are giving it up for atheism in enough numbers to hang your hat on.

Bill