GOD: You fault me for my lack of intervention?

KEVIN: Of course.

GOD: Just a moment ago, you told me that God should let His children live their own lives.

KEVIN: In an ideal universe, even the most aloof and irresponsible deity would take at least some measures to stop his children from hating and killing each other.

GOD: The funny thing about ideals is that they can differ so greatly depending on the dreamer. Sometimes, not even the dreamer himself can agree with his own ideals.

KEVIN: I see where this is going. You think I’m asking for too much. I shouldn’t gripe about the apathy of God if I truly valued humanity’s free will. You breathed life into our frail little bodies, gave us minds of our own, built us a playground, and then set us free. Well you know what? With all due respect, I’m not impressed. I just don’t understand the point of all of this.

Life on earth, you know? I mean, what the hell?

If what they say is true, then there’s a Heaven somewhere. It’s a place where you supposedly feel no pain. Death is nothing to fear in Heaven because you’ve already suffered enough and died for the final time. But what’s the point of pain, and what’s the point of death if we’re all truly destined for eternal bliss? People like to justify our mortality by claiming that God wants to teach us lessons that we’d never learn without first experiencing pain. Others try to convince you that God expects us to prove our worth before we can claim our right to stop the suffering. Still others conjecture that the physical and metaphysical universe is fragmented, and living a perfectly virtuous life will reconnect you to the greater whole. And the theories continue. To tell you the truth, I’ve never heard an explanation that satisfied me.

The more I think about suffering, the more I wonder why I can’t let go of that vision of the ideal universe in which God is both unconditionally loving, and unconditionally just. Why do we accept these assertions without questioning them? What proof do we really have of God’s infallibility? How in the hell are we supposed to be sure that God is more than just a sadist in the sky? The simple truth is we suffer by design. I wish I could understand the wisdom in this kind of creation.

GOD: I have faith that one day you will.

KEVIN: When do you suppose that will be? And since when did you conduct your affairs on the insistence of faith?

GOD: Oh, kid, you really do have a lot more to learn about me, don’t you?

KEVIN: I guess it was too much to expect a straightforward answer. I should have learned by now to just stop asking.

GOD: But where’s the fun in that?

Posted by KZ on 08/11/09

Recently, I had the good fortune of being shepherded by a brother in Christ while I was browsing in a bookstore. By “good fortune” I mean to say that I have the worst luck ever, and by “brother in Christ” I’m referring to a pushy, self-righteous evangelist in his mid thirties who throws around the word “bro” like a sad businessman who tries his darndest to form a shallow connection with his customers before jumping into a well-rehearsed sales pitch. It happened in the humor section, of all places.

The man approached me from behind, and I heard him say, “Hey bro, do you know the area well?”

“Yeah,” I responded. “Kind of.”

“Oh, that’s great, bro. Hey can I ask you a question? Are you Christian?”

I groaned inwardly. “Kind of.”

“‘Kind of?’ What’s that mean?”

There’s a great deal of reasons why I would only consider myself “kind of” Christian. I mean for starters, I’m not totally convinced anymore that Jesus “saved us from our sins” and earned humanity the right to go to Heaven through his self-sacrifice. Why did it require some archaic bloodletting ritual to appease God before He opened the gates of Heaven? And for that matter, didn’t God Himself send Jesus down to Earth? So does that mean God appeased Himself through the creation of Jesus? And if that’s the case, why the hell did God deem it necessary to kill His son at all if He could have simply opened the gates of Heaven on His own without anybody’s permission? Oh sure, there’s Adam and Eve’s Original Sin, but that’s a ludicrously petty reason for an infallible deity to hold a centuries-old grudge, if you ask me. And the problem is somebody was asking me, but he was more concerned with indoctrinating me than listening to what I really had to say.

“I mean yes, I am a Christian.” It was a desperate answer. Maybe he’d go away if he figured we were already on the same side.

“Oh that’s cool, bro. Hey look, do you have time to come with me? I’d like to pray with you.”

At that point, I started to wonder how many severed heads this guy kept in the trunk of his car.

“No, I’d rather not.”

He looked at me with exaggerated indignation, as if I’d just told him I enjoyed punching babies in the face. “Why not? Aren’t you Christian?”

“Look, I don’t feel like being hassled right now. I don’t want to pray with you, okay?”

“Why not? Aren’t you Christian, though?”

“I have no interest in having a discussion about God with some stranger in a bookstore. I know what I believe, and I know what I don’t believe. I don’t need you to tell me how wrong I am.”

“Aren’t you Christian?”

“I guess I’m not.”

His face hardened. “At least it came out of your mouth.”

He walked away. Immediately, somewhere off in the distance, I heard a cock crow as if to commemorate my denial of Christ. I’m no saint, Lord knows, but I felt an odd sort of kinship with the apostle Peter at that moment.

I didn’t mind the fact that this dude thought he was trying to save my soul. What did bother me about the whole confrontation was the guy’s smug condescension. Since when does being Christian equate to being willing to have your personal beliefs challenged by every phony jackass who calls you “bro?” The last thing I need is somebody judging me to my face and telling me that I’m a godless sinner. The last thing the world needs right now is one more pompous ass who is so “full of God,” that he doesn’t realize just how full of shit he really is. If we’re ever going to push things forward in this lifetime, the answer is to find common ground amongst all of our differences, not flattening the landscape into a homogenous mass.

My evangelical brothers and sisters, I implore you: The next time you decide to act on your desire to save somebody’s soul, consider doing it from afar for once, through the power of prayer. And should you decide to ignore my plea and to strike up a loaded conversation with some troubled soul, consider the fact that you are not the only people on this planet who believe that their opinions are worth a damn. We’re all just people with similar sins. Try and remember that, and maybe we’ll finally get somewhere.

PS: Don’t none of you ever fucking call me “bro” again, okay? I’m not your bro. Jesus hates Creed, Nickelback, terrorists, rapists, axe murderers, and every lame motherfucker who thinks he can sell somebody religion by talking bro-to-bro. I may be godless, but at least I had the good sense to stop calling people “bro” by the time I got out of high school. “Aren’t you Christian?” Fuck off, bro.

Posted by KZ on 07/19/07

GOD: It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Whose beliefs are the truest, whose practices are the most pious, and most of all, whose version of God is the most accurate? My answer to you can only be this: as in all other things relating to humanity, there is a common thread that unites you all. In very basic terms, there is truth in all of your world’s religions.

KEVIN: So that’s it, then? Your answer is a vague and useless vindication of all things divine? Shiva, Yahweh, Bismillah, it’s all the same, right? Looks like the countless scores of quibbling religious denominations and sects have been fighting over nothing all along. Gold stars for everybody!

GOD: One of the most tragic constants in human history is your talent for oversimplification.

KEVIN: Forgive me, but aren’t you the one claiming that all roads lead to a single path? Isn’t that an oversimplification?

GOD: More like a simple statement of the facts. That’s not to say that all roads are as direct or straightforward as others, but none of them are entirely devoid of direction. Those people who would oversimplify, however, are often the ones who have the easiest time justifying violence and hatred in the name of God. It was never my intention that diversity would lead to such division.

KEVIN: Division is one of the things we do best. It’s a rule of nature. The truth is, humans strive on segregation, and resentment, and prejudice.

By default, we’re sectioned off by continents — but beyond that point, the rest of our divisions are voluntary. Within those huge masses of land that we call continents, we draw borders for individual countries. Some countries get along with each other and form international councils, while most others just sulk in the corner by themselves and mutter threats. Within our countries, we have states, and counties, and cities. And despite all of that propagandized nationalism and cultural identity bullshit, citizens of a country make plenty of reasons to hate each other when it comes to polarizing entities like partisan politics or professional sports. All of that national unity stuff melts away when you’re too busy bitching about the opposing party or screaming death threats at the visiting team. It’s all just fuel for pointless rivalry.

The divisions flow from top to bottom and permeate pretty much every aspect of our lives. I’m not trying to sound like a pseudo-socialist here, but humanity has more diversity than it knows what to do with it. Different skin colors, ethnic origins, governmental philosophies, religious doctrines, sexual orientation–there’s a wealth of reasons to senselessly hate each other. We are all self-transcending beings crammed into a common living space, so it’s inevitable that disagreements would arise. And what better way is there to win an argument than to kill everybody who contradicts you? I’m still trying to decide whether suicide bombers are stubborn brutes who refuse to change with the times, or if they’re actually the next step in human evolution.

GOD: A little fatalistic, don’t you think?

KEVIN: If I were you, I’d worry less about one guy’s pessimism and focus more on the fact that people are blowing themselves up to impress you. How do you reconcile your claims of caring about the world with your apparent lack of intervention?

GOD: As senseless as this will sound to you, humanity has all of the necessary tools that it needs to live in peace.

KEVIN: What am I, a deist? Do you expect me to accept that as an adequate answer?

GOD: You fault me for my lack of intervention?

KEVIN: Of course.

GOD: Just a moment ago, you told me that God should let His children live their own lives.

KEVIN: In an ideal universe, even the most aloof and irresponsible deity would take at least some measures to stop his children from hating and killing each other.

GOD: The funny thing about ideals is that they can differ so greatly depending on the dreamer. Sometimes, not even the dreamer himself can agree with his own ideals.

Posted by KZ on 11/22/05

The title of my last post is a tongue-in-cheek reference to Matthew 7:1-5, in which Jesus tells his followers not to judge others. “How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove that splinter from your eye,’ while the wooden beam is in your eye?” says Jesus. “You hypocrite, remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother’s eye.” I was being judgmental in that last post, and I knew it.

A reader named Darren found my blog and left a critical comment about my inclination to judge. I wrote him a short and civil letter, explaining that while it’s true that I was being judgmental, I didn’t think my complaints were entirely unwarranted. It’s one thing to be conservative and religious, but it’s quite another thing to force those views onto your adult granddaughter and severely limit her autonomy as a result. In response, Darren had this to say:

While my comment was snarky, you *are* being judgmental. If grandma were insistent of some things that *you* like, but your girlfriend doesn’t, would you be as judgmental? My guess is that it’s grandma’s conservatism you don’t like.

There’s a cost to everything. That’s the cost of living with grandma, who, as you pointed out, is doing a lot of good things for your girlfriend. If the emotional cost of living with grandma becomes too high for your girlfriend, well, there’s always Kevin’s house

As you’ll learn if you drop by my blog, RightOnTheLeftCoast (mostly about education since I’m a teacher), I’m a big fan of *personal* responsibility. We make our choices, and we alone are responsible for the consequences of those choices.

I started to reflect on the tone of the previous post, and I realized that Darren made some valid points. The root of my resentment has more to do with Connie’s conservatism than I’d care to admit. Additionally, Connie is being wonderfully generous with her money and time, so that vindicates her insistence on setting some house rules. There is–and ought to be–a “cost” of living with grandma. In the end, the cost is probably well worth Diana’s while, but I still reserve my right to object when I think grandma is abusing that inherent imbalance of power. But Darren, your point is noted. I shouldn’t forget that, on the whole, Connie has been selflessly kind. Sometimes, though, I just wish she’d realize that the world has changed a bit since 1955.

Posted by KZ on 02/19/05

I’ll keep all the sordid details to myself, but the gist of the story goes something like this. For nearly a year and a half, my girlfriend Diana had been working retail and living with friends that didn’t mind the fact that she couldn’t afford to pay the full amount of her share of the rent. This January, her friends politely asked her to leave. Not having many options, Diana turned to her grandmother, Connie, who graciously took Diana into her home. In many ways, Diana is much better off. Diana has medical and dental insurance for the first time in years, and Connie has promised to help her go back to school next fall. Diana now pays zero rent, and she eats nutritious foods far more often than she bothered to while living on her own. Connie is giving Diana all of the basic necessities that her granddaughter was cheated out of in childhood. There’s no faulting the woman on her generosity.

But I have to admit something. In the short two weeks that Diana has been living with Connie, I’ve grown to resent that woman. To preface my point, it might be helpful to know that Connie is a right wing, religious conservative, “moral majority” kind of lady that locks her television set to the Fox News Channel all day long. That in itself is no reason to dislike anybody, because everybody is entitled to an opinion. But what upsets me about Connie is the fact that she rigidly forces her repressive morality onto Diana and treats her granddaughter as if she were nine years old.

For some inexplicable reason, Connie thinks that computers are the Antichrist. I shit you not. She actually refers to them as the fucking “Antichrist.” Apparently she got that idea from the Book of Revelations. It is because of this questionable religious assertion that Connie has decreed that Diana is limited to using her computer for no more than ten minutes a day. Never mind the fact that Connie keeps a computer of her own in the study, and that she uses it to read her email in increments of hours per day.

Then there’s the curfew thing. Diana is not allowed to stay out any later than 8pm. Her bedtime is 9pm. I suppose 9 is a reasonable time to sleep when you’re forbidden from watching anything else besides the Fox News Channel. I understand that this curfew thing is a product of a generation gap, but I have a hard time believing that Connie never stayed out past 8pm when she was in her early twenties.

As if limiting Diana’s freedom weren’t enough, Connie can’t help but think the worst about people. Yesterday, Diana’s former roommate, Gabe, went over to the house to help set up Diana’s computer. When Diana wasn’t looking, Connie took Gabe aside and asked him about me. Why do I hardly visit Diana? Why does it seem like I never have time for her? I say I’m busy with law school, but I can’t be that busy. I must be cheating on Diana with another girl. Thankfully Gabe had a friend that went through law school, and he told her all about the hell that is the life of a 1L. Upon hearing Gabe’s explanation, Connie just looked at him and calmly said, “I didn’t know it was that hard.”

You’re absolutely right, Connie. This whole academic spin story is just a cover. How busy could I be? It’s only fucking law school. When I say I’m doing homework for my Torts class, I really mean I’m doing a tart in the backseat of my Chevy. I make your granddaughter happy, so I must be scum. And I am scum, Connie. But at least I don’t sodomize Sri Lankan flamingos with my pentagram-encrusted cane the way that you do every Tuesday. See, Connie? I can make unfounded accusations, too.

I recognize that this isn’t an attractive side to me. I don’t like being judgmental and acidic. I originally intended to lay out my feelings with maturity and balance. But this is the way it came out, and I don’t have much of an inclination to change it. I try to live my life with compassion. I don’t hate Connie. And even though I’m the resident agnostic in this sick little arrangement, I’ll have to do my part to be as much like Christ as I can be. Do unto others as you would have done unto you. Love your neighbor as you love yourself. Judge not, lest you be judged. Support the woman you love while she endures the greatest test of her life. This move was about her, after all. I’m just a spectator with a vested interested. I love Diana, and I know she’s in store for plenty of hardship. She’s seen hardship before, and she’s stood tall with the help of friends. This time around, I’ll do my part to keep her standing.

Posted by KZ on 02/16/05

There’s something that’s been bothering me since my days as a student in Catholic elementary school. I guess you could call it a theological question, but I’d be more inclined to classify it as a matter of common sense. And maybe this is an issue that only bothers me, but I have to say that I was never much impressed by King Solomon’s wisdom.

In 1 Kings 3:16-28, you’ll find one of the most retold stories of the Hebrew Scriptures (otherwise known as the Old Testament). The syntax of the story varies depending on which version of the Bible you’re holding, but the gist of the story always remains the same. According to the New American Catholic Bible, the story goes something like this:

16: [T]wo harlots came to the king and stood before him.
17: One woman said: “By your leave, my lord, this woman and I live in the same house, and I gave birth in the house while she was present.
18: On the third day after I gave birth, this woman also gave birth.
19: This woman’s son died during the night; she smothered him by lying on him.
20: Later that night she got up and took my son from my side, as I, your handmaid, was sleeping. Then she laid him in her bosom, after she had laid her dead child in my bosom.
21: I rose in the morning to nurse my child, and I found him dead. But when I examined him in the morning light, I saw it was not the son whom I had borne.”

22: The other woman answered, “It is not so! The living one is my son, the dead one is your child, the living one is mine!” Thus they argued before the king.

23: Then the king said: “One woman claims, ‘This, the living one, is my child, and the dead one is yours.’ The other answers, ‘No! The dead one is your child; the living one is mine.’”
24: The King continued, “Get me a sword.” When they brought the sword before him,
25: he said, “Cut the living child in two, and give half to one woman and half to the other.”
26: The woman whose son it was, in the anguish she felt for it, said to the king, “Please, my lord, give her the living child–please do not kill it!” The other, however, said, “It shall be neither mine nor yours. Divide it!”
27: The king then answered, “Give the first one the living child! By no means kill it, for she is the mother.”

28: When all Israel heard the judgment the king had given, they were in awe of him, because they saw that the king had in him the wisdom of God for giving judgment.

This is the passage cited by Christians and Jews alike when they speak of the wisdom of King Solomon. Am I the only one who has a problem with this? God told the king to make a threat on an infant’s life in order to solve a custody dispute? Good thinking, KS. Cut the little bastard in half. It’s a well-known fact that babies can learn to live without functional digestive systems. I know, King Solomon was most likely trying to get a rise out of the real mother, but did he really have to go to such an extreme? If you ask me, the king sounds more sadistic than noble. What benevolent monarch threatens to murder a child in front of a parent? (Well, you know, excluding that practical joke God pulled on Abraham and Isaac back in Chapter 22 of Genesis.)

I do admit that King Solomon’s threat on the kid’s life amounts to a shrewd tactical decision on his part, but I think the author of the book of 1 Kings might be embellishing to the point of hyperbole. For example, if you were a con-woman trying to commit a state-sanctioned kidnapping, why in God’s name would you encourage your king to kill the kid whom you’re trying to obtain? “He’s my kid, I love him very much, but I’d gladly cut him in half to spite this chick standing next to me.” Right. And then there’s that line about all of Israel being in “awe” of King Solomon after hearing about this historical judgment. If that’s not a shining endorsement for masturbation in the Jewish and Christian faiths, then I don’t know what is.

From where I stand, the story of King Solomon depicts an arbitrator getting extremely lucky after making a risky decision. The whole thing borders on recklessness. If he had actually cut the kid in half, he would have been regarded as a tyrant. If both of the women had cried out in equal despair, Solomon would have ended up looking like a sadistic, ineffectual ass. But luckily for the king, the lying woman reacted to Solomon’s bluff in the worst possible way. We’re left, therefore, with two possibilities: (1) The author of the story exaggerated some of the facts, presumably for King Solomon’s benefit; or (2) The events played out exactly how they were recorded, and thus it can be said that King Solomon merely outsmarted a dimwit. In all candor, neither alternative is very flattering.

Sorry Solomon. You may have been a great man, but that baby-chopping story doesn’t impress me.

Posted by KZ on 01/31/05

It’s a little after the fact, but I’m still feeling the holiday cheer. It’s a genuinely good feeling. I remember the days when I still considered myself a Catholic, and December carried with it a comforting aura of religious joy. Christmas meant so much back then because, you know, it actually meant something. But these days, my heart has secularized, and I always feel a little twinge of loss whenever I think about what this time of year used to mean to me. Lights still twinkle, the cookies still bake, and I still indulge in whistling carols to myself when I think nobody else is listening — all echoes from a happier time when faith was a virtue instead of a constant trial.

But at heart, I’ve always been a sappy optimist. I may have lost a savior in my budding years as an adult, but I’ve never allowed myself to lose my capacity for joy. There’s more to the holidays than pious rituals and that familiar commercial bustle. Love, universal compassion, and the promise of peace…those are the signs of the season. It’s humanity at its best.

A few days before Christmas, my buddy Siona wrote me a letter that I took very much to heart. To chide away my holiday glum, she knew exactly what to say. “I don’t consider myself religious at all,” she writes, “but I’m still perfectly capable of being struck dumb by gratitude and holy reverence. Catholicism doesn’t have a monopoly on spiritual fulfillment.” She’s right, you know. I’ve always known.

The world may be scarce of things to believe in, but on days like Christmas, it’s amazing just how much faith and joy you can experience if you’d only allow yourself to feel it. This season is a time of family, friends, loved ones, and empathy for total strangers. It’s life at its best. What a world, huh? Merry Christmas.

Posted by KZ on 12/27/04

On the drive home today, I noticed a truck bearing a bumper sticker that tells the world to “Pray the Rosary for Peace.” I don’t mean to sound fatalistic, but wouldn’t you think that Mary pretty much gets it at this point? And for that matter, don’t you think she’s had enough time to notify God about the whole mess? Come on now, the rosary is fifty Hail Mary’s long, and Catholics pray it like all the time. What’s the deal, Mary?

Posted by KZ on 09/04/04

Alabama Chief Justice Roy Moore got the boot today for his refusal to remove a monument honoring the Ten Commandments from the lobby of the state courthouse. When I first mentioned Moore in my blog, I was visibly irritated and admittedly antagonistic. But now that Moore is out of work, I can’t help but feel sorry for the guy.

While the phrase “separation of Church and State” never actually appears in the US Constitution, I still believe that the tenet is very much a part of the spirit of the law and should therefore be upheld. But even so—although I’ve denounced Roy Moore’s decision to erect a TWO TON granite monument of the Ten Commandments in the state courthouse, I never wanted the guy to be put out of a job. Okay, so I did at first. But now that it’s happened, that soft, wishy-washy, closeted John Denver loving part of me wishes that things had played out differently. Even though I disagree with Moore’s actions, I do at the very least give him props for taking a stand on something that he believes in.

Stupid compassion. It paints everything with Prosaic Shades of Gray. To those of you who remember the Movie titles entry, that last one was for you.

Posted by KZ on 11/13/03

What’s all this crap we’re hearing about Alabama? In a largely symbolic gesture, some courthouse in Alabama was ordered by US federal courts to remove a tall, granite monument of the Ten Commandments from the lobby. Predictably, this pissed off plenty of Christians, who have resolved to set things right and to get that TWO TON slab of granite back on public display by holding daily rallies, chanting slogans, and basking in the media frenzy they’ve been causing. Okay, so I may regard this story with a certain amount of less-than-subtle disdain, but I honestly do sympathize for the supporters of the monument. I would imagine that if US federal courts had ordered the removal of a public symbol that belonged to any other faith–be it Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, or otherwise–members of that faith would be just as offended. If I still aligned myself with the Christians, I might have found the ruling to be hurtful, blasphemous, and needlessly antagonistic…but only at first. Let’s move beyond the initial emotional reaction of seeing the huge polished stone being carted away, and consider a matter of equity.

The man that installed the monument was Alabama Chief Justice Roy Moore, who in 2001 decided to battle the public perception that America’s south just wasn’t “Christiany” enough. And really, what better way is there to tell the world that you’re a pious guy serving in the piousest courthouse in the piousest state in the piousest country than a TWO TON slab of rock with Yaweh’s written law scrawled across it? We’re talking about something that’s literally etched in stone here. The reason, though, that Roy Moore was allowed to install that Ten Commandments monument in the first place is that Christianity is just one of those things that nobody “ought to object to.” It’s an old American standard, a hometown hero, the team with home field advantage. The majority of America’s population is comprised of Christians, which is why Roy Moore was able to install the monument with relative ease. (“Relative” is the keyword here, since I’m guessing he probably went through some crap to get the thing displayed in the beginning.)

What if, for the sake of argument, Roy Moore was actually Roy Patil a Hindu, and he one day decided to install a six-foot statue of Vishnu? Do you think all those stouthearted, justice-seeking Christians would have embraced the preserver god’s presence? Or let’s say Roy Moore was actually Roy Chang, a Chinese Buddhist who insisted on installing a tribute to the laughing Buddha? Would the community rage with resounding approval? Chances are, probably not, since statues of four-armed deities and shirtless fat dudes just make us wholesome, American Christians uncomfortable. If those other statues actually reared their backwards, blasphemous heads into an Alabama courthouse, there would be minimal opposition to their immediate removal.

As many have said before (and much more eloquently), displaying religious symbols of any kind in a public institution such as a school or a courthouse is unjust. It is an imposition of one party’s beliefs onto all the members of a diverse community. Neither Roy Moore, Roy Patil, nor Roy Chang have the right to abuse their positions of authority by imposing their religious views onto the public. And to all of you Christians getting bent out of shape over the TWO TON monument of the Ten Commandments, just remember the first commandment: “I am the Lord, your God. You shall have no other gods before me.” That includes idols, you know. Don’t worry so much about physical representations of God and just stick to keeping Him in your hearts. Now, for Christ’s sake, is that so hard?

Posted by KZ on 08/29/03