Day 31: My Last Day as a Christian

So we’ve finally reached the end of the month—and I couldn’t be happier about it. I know I went in a little biased against Christianity, given my background, and I know I was sick for a good chunk of the month, but still—it was pretty much hell (no pun intended). I think I’ve been in a bad mood every day since this month started. But just knowing it’s almost over has perked me up a little bit, so I’m grateful for that.

The question is: Did I learn anything?

Yeah, I did. For starters, I learned that almost no one has read the entire Bible. If people were really reading it, it wouldn’t be the top-selling book of all time. It’s too boring, too poorly written, too redundant, and too contradictory to hold up as high-quality literature. And when you compare it to, say, the Hindu scriptures, the Bible is just painful to read. Sure, the Hindu holy books are redundant, too, but the language is so flowery and beautiful, I didn’t mind reading the same things over and over again. 

I also learned about Jesus Christ—or, rather, I learned how little there is to know about him, outside of the Bible’s account, which seemed so negative to me that I couldn’t imagine anyone liking Jesus as a person. 

On the other hand, I learned that, despite the biblical evidence, lots of people really do see Jesus as an actual presence and a true comfort in their lives. Lots of Christians feel like they know—and love—Jesus. So maybe the point is that Jesus Christ is whatever you need him to be. Hmm. That’s an idea I might actually be able to support.

There were also a few aspects of being a Christian that brought back pleasant memories for me. Thinking about Jesus and praying the rosary so much made me remember a lot of things I didn’t even know I had forgotten about my grandmother. And that was nice. She’s been dead for 16 years, and even while she was alive, I never thought we were very close, but my month as a Christian showed me that we had a better relationship than I ever realized. If there is a Christian heaven and, by some twist of fate, I ever make it there, it’s good to know that I’ll have something to talk to my grandmother about.

So maybe Christianity does have its good points. Obviously, it brings comfort and purpose to millions of people—whether they truly understand what they believe or not. But I guess it’s possible that religion—Christianity or any faith—isn’t about understanding. It’s about feeling and believing—something I’ve never been very good at. But I’ll keep trying.

Day 30: Christian Mysticism

Although some of the sources I’ve come across in my research insist that there is no such thing as Christian mysticism, most religious scholars seem to agree that there is a mystical tradition within Christianity, even if it is on the small side.

Mysticism refers to the desire to attain some type of personal union with God, through meditation or other experiences—kind of like the goal of Hinduism, which we talked about last month. 

In the Bible, Jesus says, “I and the Father are one.” (John 10:30) It’s this statement that Christian mystics often use to demonstrate that the direct path to God already exists—it’s just a matter of finding it for yourself. 

Since we’ve already established pretty well that I suck at meditation, I’m not going to attempt to become a Christian mystic myself. Instead, I’m just going to give you a few examples of well-known Christian mystics throughout history. Okay, so maybe I’m getting lazy, but this has been a rough month, so cut me a little slack.

Among the most famous of the Christian mystics are Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), whose collected works I am now suffering through; Teresa of Avila (1515–1582); Thomas Merton (1915–1968); and my personal favorite, Catherine of Siena (1347–1380). 

From everything I’ve read about Catherine, she was never a big eater like I am, but as she became more and more absorbed in her mystical experiences, she ate even less, claiming that she only felt nourished by the body of Christ (the host eaten at Holy Communion). That’s one hell of a diet plan.

Anyway, perhaps the best-known Christian mystic was Thomas à Kempis (1380–1471), who wrote The Imitation of Christ. In it, he details some of his own mystical experiences and gives examples of how people can strive to be like Jesus in their everyday lives. 

I really kind of love some of the quotes I’ve found from The Imitation of Christ, such as:

“Never be entirely idle; but either be reading, or writing, or praying or meditating or endeavoring something for the public good.”

Okay, so maybe I’m not doing a whole lot of public good, but I have definitely not been idle much since I started this project. I think my TV misses me.

“Some have [God] in their mouths, but little in their hearts.”

All I can say to that is amen!

“If thou reliest more upon thine own reason or industry than upon the virtue that subjects to Jesus Christ, thou wilt seldom and hardly become an enlightened man; for God wishes us to be perfectly subject to Himself, and to transcend all reason by inflamed love.”

Oops. Guess I might be in trouble.

Day 29: The Power of Christian Love

I’ve been reading a lot about early Christianity, and how the followers of the new Christian religion differed from the people around them. Despite the fact that most early Christians were poor social outsiders, they usually displayed a sense of happiness and exuberance that puzzled non-Christians. I don't know how much of this applies to modern Christians, but let's see.

Religious scholar Huston Smith says the early Christians' strange exuberance can partly be traced to the Christian notion that everyone is equal in the eyes of God. This idea broke down social barriers and made race, gender, and socioeconomic status inconsequential. Early Christians actually did love each other, believing that it was their duty to love one another as they believed God loved them.

But what made this love that the early Christians expressed so powerful? Huston Smith offers a few ideas. He says that Christianity successfully removed three painful burdens that all human beings generally experience, making it possible for Christians to focus on love.

The first burden was fear, and the fear of death in particular. If you had lived your whole life worrying about being carried off by the next big disease or famine, you’d probably be just as thrilled as the first Christians to find out that, if you believe in Jesus Christ, death will be your ticket to a place in heaven, not just something to be dreaded.

Clearly, despite my best efforts this month, I have still not entirely bought into the idea that we get to go to heaven when we die because I’m still pretty obsessed with—and terrified of—our many modern-day plagues and famines. I have noticed, however, that a lot of modern Christians do seem to have less fear in general than I do. So maybe they're on to something.

Anyway, the second burden that Christianity lifted was guilt, according to Huston Smith. (As a former Catholic, I might argue that as Christianity evolved, it actually added guilt—and lots of it—to believers’ lives, but that’s a topic for another time, I guess.)

Feeling guilty makes us less creative, less able to live to the fullest. And we all feel guilt, at least occasionally, because nobody—no matter how productive or successful they are—ever achieves everything they hope to do. But, at least according to the early Christians, like Paul, believing in Jesus released them from the terrible guilt that had made their lives miserable.

I don’t know. Sounds a little far-fetched to me. And, like I said, most modern Christians (or at least Catholics) I've met seem to feel a lot more guilty over a lot of trivial things than their non-Christian counterparts do. But let’s move on.

The third burden from which early Christians were supposedly released was the ego. Christianity taught that love was endless and limitless—not confined to what any one person was capable of expressing. As Robert Penn Warren wrote, “the human curse is to love and sometimes to love well, but never well enough.” With Christianity, the boundless love between God and people made any previous limits on love disappear.

Again, I’ve got to say that I have my doubts about all this. Talking about God’s love being perfect and limitless is one thing, but comparing it to the kind of love humans have for each other is a problem for me. I don’t know about you, but anytime I’ve ever tried to love a human being completely, I got punished for it—crushed, humiliated, abandoned, or otherwise slapped in the face. Saying that God’s love is like human love, but bigger and more intense, just makes me wonder how painful the inevitable slap-down will be when it comes.

Man, I’m really glad we’re almost done with this month of Christianity. I’m just getting more pissed off and more depressed as the month goes on. If I can’t even talk about love without getting angry, it may be time to move on to something new.

Day 28: The Prodigal Son

You probably already know the story of the prodigal son, one of Jesus Christ’s most famous parables. But just in case, here’s a quick synopsis:

There was a man with two sons. The younger one asked the father to give him his share of the family estate. As soon as the father gave it to him, the kid skipped town and successfully blew through his inheritance with “loose living.” Sounds like a lot of people I know.

Anyway, after spending his entire fortune, the kid decides to go home and beg his father to take him back. So he goes home and finds his dad and says, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”

That, right there, sounds to me like the kid is overdramatizing just for effect—I mean, it’s more than obvious that he’s full of crap—but let’s move on for now.

Instead of reprimanding the kid, the father hugs him and throws a big party to celebrate his return.

Meanwhile, the other son, who’s been out working his ass off in his father’s fields this whole time, comes home to find the party in full swing.

Understandably, at least in my opinion, he’s a little ticked off and says to his father, “For so many years I have been serving you and I have never neglected a command of yours; and yet you have never given me a young goat, so that I might celebrate with my friends; but when this son of yours came, who has devoured your wealth with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him.”

The father replies, “Son, you have always been with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, for this brother of yours was dead and has begun to live, and was lost and has been found.”

Okay. I’ve been hearing this story since I was a small child, and every time I’ve ever heard it, my response has always been exactly the same: What the hell?

If you ask me, it’s a crock. The good son, the loyal one, the one who has worked hard and obeyed his father the whole time, gets punished, while the little ass who wasted all his money on booze and whores gets rewarded. It’s so unfair, it’s crazy.

And no matter how many times people try to make me see that the story is about forgiveness, that you should forgive someone for screwing up and give them another chance, I say bullshit.

I mean, look at it realistically. Where is the money for the prodigal son’s party (and the renewed inheritance we have to assume he’s going to get) coming from? Obviously, the good son is getting shafted. It’s crap.

Maybe I’ve always felt like the good son—ignored and invisible, except when somebody wants someone else to do the grunt work. So I appreciate the good son’s anger. If I were him, I would probably beat the prodigal son to death with a stick (but then we’d get into a whole big Cain-and-Abel situation, which would just be a hassle).

My point is that I have a lot of trouble believing in a God who thinks it’s acceptable—no, more than that—desirable to reward bad behavior and punish good people. If the prodigal son was “dead,” then maybe he should have stayed dead, in my opinion.

I’m just saying. If you screw up—and I don’t mean accidentally—I mean, if you screw up and you KNOW you’re screwing up, and you’re doing it on purpose, then you don’t deserve a second chance. I’ve never received a second chance (and I’ve never done anything remotely as bad as what the prodigal son did). So if I don’t get a second chance, the prodigal son sure as hell doesn’t deserve one.

Wow. I better stop thinking about this before I blow a blood vessel. I may have a few deep-seated issues with parental authority and sibling rivalry, you think?

Day 27: The Orthodox Church

Since we talked about Pentecost yesterday, I thought today would be a good time to look at the Orthodox Church in a little more detail, since the Orthodox Catholic Church, or Eastern Orthodox Church, traces its origins to the “official” Christian church started by the Apostles soon after the Pentecost.

With an estimated membership of around 300 million people, the Eastern Orthodox Church is the second-largest branch of Christianity (Roman Catholicism is largest). Although there are “separate” Orthodox churches in different areas—Greek or Russian Orthodox, for example—the basic beliefs are universal.

The word orthodox comes from the Greek for “correctly believing” or “correctly glorifying.”

The Orthodox Church uses a few different books in its Bible, including a few that aren’t used by either Catholics or Protestants. And don’t even ask—no, I am not going to attempt to read the Orthodox Bible, too. It was hard enough getting through the other one. Maybe after this year is over, I’ll give it a shot, but for now . . . my Bible-reading days are over—at least until I become a Jew and have to read the Old Testament again. Ugh.

Orthodox Christians believe that their goal in life is to get closer to God. (Surprise, surprise—so far, that’s been the goal of every belief system we’ve looked at.)

The process of becoming close to God is referred to as theosis or deification. The idea is to be as holy as possible and to try to emulate Jesus Christ in everyday life.

In general, the Orthodox Church is less formal in structure and hierarchy than, say, the Catholic Church. Jesus Christ is considered the official head of the Church. Although there are church leaders, including patriarchs and bishops, there is no single earthly head of the Church, like the Catholic Pope. (The Patriarch of Constantinople is often viewed by outsiders as the equivalent of a Pope, but from everything I’ve read, Orthodox Christians insist that the two are not comparable.)

Orthodox Christians believe in many of the same principles as other Christians—such as the Holy Trinity. But they also differ a bit on a few points.

Although many other Christians recognize particular individuals—those who are especially holy—as saints, the Orthodox Church believes that everyone who makes it to heaven qualifies as a saint. Even so, there are a few who stand out—and those saints get their own celebrations. There are a lot of them, though. In fact, on any given day, the Orthodox Church may celebrate a whole bunch of different saints. The most important saint is the Virgin Mary, who is known as the Theotokos, or “God-bearer.”

Perhaps one of the best-known aspects of the Orthodox Church is the use of icons in worship. Icons are paintings that show images of Jesus or saints. According to The Complete Idiot’s Guide to World Religions, icons “are considered windows through which the viewer can catch a glimpse of the Divine during times of prayer and contemplation.”

The word icon comes from the Greek word eikona, which means “image.” Although icons are important symbols to the Orthodox, they are not considered true means of artistic expression. Instead, they’re painted according to a set formula and almost always copy earlier icons.

Orthodox churches almost never have the kind of freestanding statues seen in other Christian churches, especially Catholic ones. Icons are vastly more popular because, unlike statues, they focus on the spiritual nature of the saints or people depicted, rather than their physical, earthly bodies.

Icons are not objects of worship or idols. The Orthodox believe that the use of images to remind believers of the Divine only became possible after Christ walked the Earth. The logic goes: Before God took material form as Jesus Christ, it would have been sacrilegious to create a material image of the Divine.

There’s something I’ve always loved about icons. Even at the height of my distaste for Christianity, when I was in my early twenties, I was fascinated by icons. They’re so strange and mysterious looking. If I had any artistic skill whatsoever (and I think we can all agree that I have none), I might even try painting one. But oh well. I’ll just have to be satisfied with looking at them elsewhere, like here: http://www.orthodoxiconsonline.com/

The Orthodox Church also uses slightly different versions of the cross from those used by other branches of Christianity. The most commonly seen Eastern cross looks something like this (yes, I had the construction paper out again):

Unlike the Western cross, the Eastern cross has three bars going through the vertical bar. The top horizontal bar symbolizes the sign that Pontius Pilate put over Jesus Christ’s head during the crucifixion, which identified him as “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.”

The slanted bar at the bottom as two meanings: It symbolizes the foot platform where Jesus was nailed, reminding viewers of the prolonged agony he suffered. It also symbolizes the fact that two thieves were crucified along with Jesus, and the one on Christ’s right chose to ask Jesus for forgiveness, taking the correct path to God, while the thief on the left did not.

Orthodox Christians sing almost the entire service when they attend church. They believe that the human voice is the best possible instrument to use when praising God. Clearly, they’ve never heard me sing. But I do like the idea of singing everything. It seems more mystical and magical than rushing through the service Protestant-style (no offense intended).

I’m kind of starting to think that if I were ever to really choose Christianity permanently, I’d be more inclined to be Orthodox than anything else. Who woulda thunk it?

Day 26: Pentecost

Now that Christmas is over (boo!), I guess we have to get back to discussing other aspects of Christianity. We’ve already covered most of the major holidays, but there’s still one big one we haven’t talked about yet: Pentecost.

Pentecost takes place on the seventh Sunday after Easter. In England, it’s usually referred to as “Whitsunday.”

Although Pentecost is a Christian holiday, it has its origins in the Jewish festival of Shavout, which celebrates the spring harvest. Pentecost marks the occasion when the Holy Spirit came to the Apostles after Jesus had died, been resurrected, and ascended to heaven. The Bible describes the event:

[T]hey were all together in one place.

And suddenly there came from heaven a noise like a violent rushing wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting.

And there appeared to them tongues as of fire distributing themselves, and they rested on each one of them.

And they were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit was giving them utterance. (Acts 2:1–4)

So, basically, the Holy Spirit came down from heaven and gave the Apostles power and unusual abilities—like the ability to speak in other languages.

Apparently, the Apostles were enjoying the experience a little too much, though. The Bible says that some people who witnessed their behavior “were mocking and saying, ‘They are full of sweet wine.’” (Acts 2:13)

I like the fact that the Bible mentions that people were making fun of the Apostles because, frankly, that’s probably exactly what I would have been doing if I had been there. I mean, wouldn’t you think a bunch of dudes sitting around babbling nonsense were a little bit drunk?

One of the Apostles, Peter, tries to defend their behavior, saying, “. . . these men are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only the third hour of the day [9:00 a.m.]. . . .” (Acts 2:15)

Personally, I think that statement would only have made me laugh at the early-morning drunks even harder, but Peter goes on to explain that everything that had happened—from Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection to the Holy Spirit’s visit to the Apostles that day—was the fulfillment of prophecy.

After this episode—the Pentecost—the Apostles went out into the world to spread the word about Jesus and to win more followers to the new faith. Essentially, the event marked the official beginning of the Christian church.

And that’s what Christians celebrate at Pentecost today—the idea of bringing the “good news” to all people. It’s a nice enough idea, although it’s a bit unfortunate that in so many cases throughout history, spreading the good news translated into destroying anyone who didn’t believe it.

Even growing up as a Catholic, I never thought of Pentecost as a very important or interesting holiday. I don’t even recall going to Mass to celebrate it, although I imagine my dad dragged me there at least occasionally.

Pentecost isn’t the kind of holiday I like, in general. As we’ve already established, I prefer my holidays well-defined and, of course, with plenty of stuff—like decorations, food, and presents.

I’ve got to say, though, that I’m kind of glad I read the whole Bible this month. The biblical story of Pentecost—especially the part about the Apostles acting like drunken loons—was pretty entertaining. I may even have an all-new appreciation for Pentecost.

Day 25: Merry Christmas!

It’s Christmas and I’ve got a turkey to cook, so in lieu of a real post, I just wanted to share something I thought was kind of funny.

Now you know I’ve been complaining about the lack of Christmas decorations down here in Texas. Back home, everything is covered in lights and bows and evergreen—from streetlamps to the poles in parking lots. Here, there’s hardly anything. But a few of my neighbors did do a little decorating.

Here is one of my neighbor’s doors (see picture below). You’ll notice the Christmas wreath, which is of a pretty standard size.

Another neighbor, however, was apparently not satisfied with a normal-sized wreath, so they went big. Really, really big. See the picture below.

The wreath is actually so huge, I wasn’t able to get the whole thing into the picture. I laugh every time I walk past it. I have no idea how the people who live there are managing to get their door open and closed, but I appreciate the “go big or go home” attitude. Can’t wait to see what they do for Valentine’s Day.

Have a very Merry Christmas!

Day 24: Christmas

It’s Christmas Eve, which has always been my favorite day of the year. I’m big on anticipation, so as a child, knowing that the next day was Christmas was almost better than when Christmas finally arrived. There’s always something a little anticlimactic and a tad depressing about sitting around in a room full of torn wrapping paper and unwrapped gifts. Or maybe not.

Anyway, I’m keeping it short and sweet today—just the Christmas story from the Bible—so I can stop typing and try to enjoy this Christmas just a little bit. Here you go:

Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus, that a census be taken of all the inhabited earth. . . .

And everyone was on his way to register for the census, each to his own city.

Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, in order to register along with Mary, who was engaged to him, and was with child.

While they were there, the days were completed for her to give birth.

And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night.

And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened.

But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring to you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

Glory to God in the highest,

And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased. (Luke: 2:1­­–14)

Have a Merry Christmas, everybody!

Day 23: The Bible

Since I’ve already spent two days griping about how badly Jesus Christ is portrayed in the New Testament, I thought I’d spend a little time before the month is over talking about some of the other weird things I’ve noticed about the Bible.

Most Christians I talk to either admit that they’ve never read the Bible at all or say that they’ve read “some” of it. My guess is that few people outside of the clergy and religious academia have ever bothered to read the whole thing. And, after spending a good chunk of each day this month reading it as thoroughly as possible, I can’t say I blame them.

I know that part of the problem is the fact that I’m an editor. No matter how you slice it, the Bible just isn’t compelling literature. Sure, it’s fabulous as holy scripture (I guess). But it’s certainly not a page-turner. If the Bible had to rely on the quality of the writing instead of the average Christian’s compulsion to own a copy, just because they think they should, it would never sell a single volume. It’s that badly written.

For one thing, the Bible is so redundant, it’s mind-numbing. There are whole books that basically just repeat what earlier books said. Okay, I know we should expect a bit of repetition, especially in the New Testament, where we get four people’s versions of the same events (the four Gospels). But the Old Testament has no excuse.

It’s kind of like when you’re watching reality TV—before the commercial break, they give you a “preview” of what’s coming up next. Then, when the show resumes, you see exactly what was in the preview (and most of the time, very little more). Then, there’s another commercial, and when you get back to the program, they show you highlights from what you just saw.

Now, this might be an effective method for teaching multiplication to third graders, but it’s pretty tiring for adults. And it’s exactly how a lot of the Bible seems to be set up. Trust me—it can make you want to pluck your eyes out.

Then, there are the bizarre omissions. According to the Book of Genesis, God creates one man (Adam) and one woman (Eve). They have two sons: Cain and Abel. We probably all know the story of how Cain kills Abel, so I won’t bore you with that here, but we never hear about any other people up until that point. Then, out of nowhere, Genesis 4:17 says, “Cain had relations with his wife. . . .”

Okay . . . where did she come from? We don’t find out that Adam and Eve started having any additional kids until Genesis 5:3, so who is this woman Cain’s sleeping with? My friend Jen says that the story of Adam and Eve is only detailing the origins of the “Chosen People,” not everybody, so Cain’s mysterious woman could be from somewhere else.

That’s fine with me. It makes perfect sense. But the Bible needs to explain that. It’s just bad editing. If I ever allowed that important a detail to be left out of a book that I was being paid to edit, I would lose my job.

Then, there are all the odd rules that the Bible lays out—especially in the Old Testament. Let’s just look at a sampling:

Exodus 22:16: “If a man seduces a virgin who is not engaged, and lies with her, he must pay a dowry for her to be his wife.”

I’m sure men all over the United States would freak out if they read this. God is basically saying that if you want to have sex with a virgin, you not only have to marry her afterward but you have to pay for the privilege of doing so. Oh, the horror!

Exodus 22:26–27: “If you ever take your neighbor’s cloak as a pledge, you are to return it to him before the sun sets, for that is his only covering; it is his cloak for his body. What else shall he sleep in?”

This one just makes me laugh. Is the neighbor who gives you the cloak going around naked all day, but it only starts to bother him at sundown? And if he’s comfortable with the idea of being naked all day long, what’s wrong with being naked at night?

Leviticus 19:28: “You shall not make any cuts in your body . . . nor make any tattoo marks on yourselves: I am the Lord.”

Well, I guess I’m going straight to hell. I’ve got a ladybug tattoo on my ankle (and two other tattoos that are a little bit better hidden). It’s really not clear at all how getting a tattoo in any way diminishes God’s power. The whole section is supposed to be about forbidding idolatry, which is all well and good. But I assure you—the fact that I have a ladybug tattoo does not mean that I worship ladybugs. God is under no threat whatsoever.

But then, God seems to be awfully particular about what he likes and doesn’t like. He’s especially detailed when he talks about how he wants things to be built—like altars and arks.

God rambles on for several chapters in Exodus, telling Moses exactly (and I mean with so much exact detail that I suspect God suffers from a touch of OCD) how to build the Ark of the Covenant, what the curtains in the tabernacle should look like (yes, God is apparently interested in interior design), and what priests should wear. It’s almost painful to read, so I’ll just give you a couple of verses to give you a taste:

They shall construct an ark of acacia wood two and a half cubits long [cubits are very popular in the Bible—a cubit is about 18 inches, or 45.72 centimeters for those who use the metric system], and one and a half cubits wide, and one and a half cubits high.

You shall overlay it with pure gold, inside and out you shall overlay it, and you shall make a gold molding around it. . . .

Make one cherub at one end and one cherub at the other end; you shall make the cherubim of one piece with the mercy seat at its two ends. (Exodus 25:10­-11, 19)

Moreover you shall make the tabernacle with ten curtains of fine twisted linen and blue and purple and scarlet material; you shall make them with cherubim, the work of a skillful workman. . . . (Exodus 26:1)

Then you shall make curtains of goats’ hair for a tent over the tabernacle; you shall make eleven curtains in all. (Exodus 26:7)

Is it me, or is this way too much detail for God to be getting into? Doesn’t he have better things to do than worry about what color the curtains should be and whether they’re made out of regular or twisted linen? Seriously.

And the thing about all the detail is, you’d better get it just right, because God gets pretty pissed off. He’s smiting people down left and right, destroying cities (and even the whole world, according to the whole Noah story), and threatening to destroy civilization pretty frequently (although he often seems to back down in the end).

Overall, he just doesn’t seem to be a very friendly guy—but I get that. Human beings do tend to be a pretty nasty bunch, so you can’t necessarily blame God for having the urge to wipe us out now and then. I guess we should be grateful he doesn’t kill us all off more often.

I’m getting close to the end of the Bible—only around 100 pages left to go. I just hope this last section turns out to be a little more interesting than what came before it. To say it’s been a rough month so far would be a massive understatement.

For now, I’ve got to get back to reading.

Day 22: Jesus Christ, Part 2

Yesterday, we started talking about what kind of person Jesus was (and we had to cut the discussion short because I felt like I was developing a touch of carpal tunnel syndrome—I’m typing WAY too much these days!). So let’s pick up where we left off.

Jesus Christ is often considered the most influential person in the history of Western civilization. It’s not at all surprising, considering how big a role the religion he founded has played in Western history.

Although the things Jesus did have had a huge impact on the world, who he was—what he was like in everyday life—has always been something of a mystery. Even the people who knew him in first-century Palestine often went around asking, “What kind of man is this?” Jesus was then—and still remains—very much a puzzle.

So you know I’ve been reading the Bible. I’m finally pretty well into the New Testament, so I’ve had some exposure to the way Jesus is depicted in the Bible. And, at least in my humble opinion, it ain’t all that flattering.

I apologize in advance to anyone I’ll be offending with the following summary, but try to remember that I’m just trying to be honest and tell you the way I’m seeing things. I’m not trying to make fun of the Christian Lord and Savior. Really.

For starters, it seems like every time Jesus has a conversation with someone, he gets all pissed off and either yells or belittles the people around him. Maybe it’s just bad writing on the part of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John (the authors of the four Gospels), but you’d think they would have tried to make Jesus look even nicer than he really was, to paint the Messiah in the most positive way possible. Apparently not.

The next problem I have with the way Jesus is portrayed in the Bible is how he kind of comes off as a bit of a liar. For example, in Matthew (5:17), Jesus says, “Do not think that I come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish but to fulfill.”

One page later, he turns around and changes the Law (i.e., “abolishes” the original interpretation of it), saying, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,’ But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also.” (Matthew 5:38–39)

Sure, the new sentiment Jesus has added here is much more pleasant than the old “Law,” but he’s “abolishing” it nonetheless—which he said he wasn’t going to do. I don’t know. That just kind of irritates me.

Jesus also seems to have a bit of a problem with his short-term memory. In John (13:36), it says, “Simon Peter said to Him [Jesus], ‘Lord, where are You going?’” Then, less than two pages later, Jesus says (in what seems like kind of a nasty tone to me), “But now I am going to Him who sent Me; and none of you asks Me, ‘Where are You going?’” (John 16:5)

Hello? Was Jesus just not paying attention to Simon Peter? It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes after Peter asked where Jesus was going that Jesus accused everybody, including Peter, of not asking. It’s bizarre—and it makes Jesus sound not just forgetful but kind of mean.

Next, we have to look at the way Jesus treats his family. In Luke, there’s a part where somebody tells Jesus that his mother and brothers are waiting outside to see him, and he refuses to go out to them, saying, “My mother and My brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.” (Luke 8:21)

Okay, sure—it’s a nice enough thought, that anyone can be Jesus’s relative, but why can’t he show his own mother a little courtesy, especially when he’s always going around saying “Honor thy father and thy mother”?

This brings me to my biggest problem with Jesus’s personality, at least as it comes across in the Bible: what happened at the wedding in Cana. Of course, most people know the story of how Jesus turned water into wine—yet another excellent miracle, especially if you’re a wine drinker like me—but nobody ever mentions what happened before that.

At the wedding, Mary (Jesus’s mother, whom we assume is no longer a virgin since Jesus apparently has brothers) comes up to Jesus and tells him that the hosts of the wedding have run out of wine. Jesus replies, “Woman, what does that have to do with us?” (John 2:4)

That dismissive response is, right there in a nutshell, the main reason I initially left the Catholic Church in my late teens. I just couldn’t accept the idea of being devoted to a guy who would be so rude to his own mother.

I mean, seriously—if I ever talked to my mother like that, I would have gotten a swift smack on the ass with a wooden spoon—and I would have deserved it. I don’t care if you are the Son of God. You should still treat your mother with a little bit of respect. 

No matter what you have to say, in any situation, there's a nice way and a nasty way to say it. At least according to the Bible, Jesus always seems to pick the nasty way. And, if that sort of behavior bothers me in ordinary people, it REALLY annoys me in the guy who's supposed to be my Savior. 

Based on all this information in the Bible, whenever I see one of those “What Would Jesus Do?” bumper stickers, I can’t help thinking, “He’d probably mouth off to his mother or give a tongue-lashing to one of the Apostles—that’s what Jesus would do.”

But please, don't get me wrong. Despite how I must sound in this rant, I really do desperately want to like (and even love) Jesus, especially this month while I'm a Christian. But if you read enough of the Bible, it’s very hard to find him all that likable as a person (but I admit that, even if he does have terrible manners, he still kicks ass when it comes to doing miracles and all that stuff).

Of course, I do realize that the Bible is just other people’s interpretations of Jesus—not necessarily direct quotes or entirely accurate (especially since a lot of the people who wrote the New Testament never even knew Jesus personally).

I also realize that biblical writing isn’t all that upbeat to begin with—I’ve got to say that God the Father comes off as a bit of a hypocritical jerk throughout much of the Old Testament.

So, I know that my feeling about Jesus isn’t actually based on anything that resembles fact. And I guess the whole point of being Christian is, really, to discover for yourself who Jesus was and to find a way to bring him into your heart.

It’s not easy at all, but really—I’m trying.

Day 21: Jesus Christ

I had a lot of trouble even writing the title of this post without hearing the name Jesus Christ in my head as something other than a swear. Despite the fact that I’m trying really hard to be on my best Christian behavior, I still catch myself yelling “Jesus Christ!” multiple times a day (although I often use the slightly more colorful “Jesus H. Christ!”).

So, in the interest of furthering my understanding and appreciation of Christianity (and maybe making myself stop taking the name of the Lord in vain), I thought today would be a good time to look a little at the man behind the myth, so to speak. We frequently hear people ask, “What would Jesus do?” What I want to ask is “Who was Jesus, really?” Let’s try to find out.

According to The Complete Idiot’s Guide to World Religions (which is becoming like a Bible to me on this project—no pun intended): “‘Jesus’ is a Latinized form of the Greek ‘Iesous,’ a transliteration of a Hebrew name . . . : Y’shua. And ‘Christ’ is not, properly speaking, a name at all, but a description. It is a variation of the Greek word ‘Christos,’ which means ‘the anointed one.’” That is, the one described as the Messiah in the Hebrew tradition.

Christians believe that Jesus was both a real human being and the Son of God, completely divine. Historians generally believe that Jesus was, in fact, a real human being who preached a religious philosophy that emphasized love, faith, and being tolerant of all people. Because he claimed to be the Messiah mentioned in Hebrew scripture (what is now the Old Testament of the Bible), he had not only a lot of devoted followers but also a lot of enemies—and some of them were powerful.

But that’s the end of the story. The beginning is shrouded in myth, and all we really know is what’s described in the New Testament of the Bible, which isn’t exactly as reliable as a history textbook (although history textbooks can be pretty inaccurate, too—I would know, since I used to edit them).

The Bible says that Jesus Christ’s mother, known popularly as the Virgin Mary, was engaged to a guy named Joseph. An angel visited Mary and told her that she was going to become pregnant by the power of the Holy Spirit, and would give birth to the Son of God.

Mary explained this unusual turn of events to Joseph, and the guy agreed to marry her anyway.

Personally, if I were a guy and my fiancée came to me saying she was pregnant with God’s baby, I’d say, “Immaculate conception? Yeah, right. Get your trampy little ass back to your parents’ tent—and give me back my engagement ring (or donkey or ox or whatever a man might have given to a woman to signify betrothal in biblical times).” But Joseph went along with it—which is probably why he has since become a saint and I have not.

Anyway, we probably all know the Christmas story: Mary gives birth to Jesus in a stable because there’s no room at the inn (and yada yada yada). My boyfriend sent me this link that kind of sums it all up, from a slightly more modern (and pretty hilarious) perspective: http://www.flixxy.com/digital-christmas-story.htm.

Beyond the tale of how Jesus was born, the Bible only gives a few brief glimpses of his early years. The story of his life pretty much picks up again when he’s well into adulthood.

He goes and gets baptized by John the Baptist. He starts collecting followers, including the Twelve Apostles. He performs lots of miracles—curing lepers, making the blind see, raising the dead—good stuff.

And he tells people all about what they should be doing and believing—basically updating the rules from the Old Testament and adding a few choice new ideas like “Love thy neighbor as thyself” and so on.

The common people responded favorably to Jesus and his ministry, but the leaders of the old-style Judaism and the local Roman authorities weren’t exactly thrilled about how popular Jesus was becoming. And the stuff he was saying—like how he was the Messiah—could easily be viewed as blasphemy by Jewish leaders (and as sedition by the Romans). So they brought him up on charges and executed him.

The Bible goes into a lot of detail about the period leading up to the crucifixion: how Jesus was betrayed by one of his Apostles, Judas Iscariot; and how another Apostle, Peter, denied knowing Jesus at all for fear of being arrested, too.

But the point is, the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, condemned Jesus to death, and he was crucified. (Then, according to Christian belief, at least, he rose from the dead and returned to hang out with his followers for a while before ascending to heaven, where he’ll stay until some unknown time in the future, when he’ll return in the Second Coming to judge the living and the dead.)

The problem with all this information about Jesus Christ—even to Christians who know it all very well—is that we get very little sense of who Jesus was a person.

Obviously, the assumption is that he was a nice guy—forgiving, loving, treating everyone with respect and tolerance. But the stories give almost no sense of Jesus Christ’s personality—or, at least, that’s what I thought before I started reading the Bible so thoroughly this month.

But we’ll have to talk about that tomorrow. . . .