Fire and Brimstone

This was my first column for the student paper, The Daily Nebraskan, and, as I mentioned in yesterday's introduction, I was far more polemical then. The piece garnered quite a lot of attention, both in the letters section and elsewhere. An acquaintance of my father sent it to him, which meant that soon my whole family had read it--it certainly made for an interesting Christmas vacation home that year!

The nephews I talk about in this piece are teenagers now and each one has gone on Christian mission trips overseas--I'm probably a bit of a "weird uncle" to them, but we get along okay.

Fire and Brimstone

Question authority or just believe?

Jeremy Patrick (jhaeman@hotmail.com)

October 14, 1999

I was driving my nephews home from the mall one day this summer when I heard Cameron, 7, whispering something to Timothy, 4, in the backseat."Um, Unca Jay?" Tim said."Yes?""Umm, Cameron says you, umm, don't believe in God."

"Yes ... yes, that's right." I responded, surprised by the question."But Unca Jay, if you don't believe in Jesus, you're gonna go to hell!" I was taken aback of course - how often does a four-year-old tell you that you're going to hell? I guess I should have expected something like that when my sister married a minister. Not that he's a mean fire-and-brimstone type of preacher - he's actually one of the nicest guys I know.

"Well Tim, you see, I don't believe in hell," I finally said. And then I found myself in one of the oddest situations of my life - I was arguing religion with children! I tried to change the subject, but they were adamant about converting me. Cameron especially knew his Bible and kept telling me how I'd miss out on the "raptor" (I think he meant "rapture").

I wasn't sure how to respond, and I especially didn't want my sister to get mad at me for "corrupting" her children. At the same time, I'm an argumentative jerk and won't let anyone, even my dear nephews, think they've beaten me in a debate about something I'm passionate about - like religion.

So I started telling them all about theodicy, about the problem of Cain's wife, about how I thought it was silly that all Christians think all non-Christians are going to hell, just like all Muslims think all non-Muslims are going to hell, etc., when no religion offers any better evidence than any other.

Not that my arguments worked, of course. Part of the reason was probably that they were philosophical and abstract, difficult to convey to kids who think Santa Claus is real and delivers presents on Christmas. Part of it is that "Jesus" is a fact told to them by their mom and dad, and at that age, Mom and Dad can't be wrong. After our discussion ended, and we got back home, I took them to the park. I watched them on the swing set laughing at nothing in particular, just because they were happy. (When did I lose that ability?) I wondered why anyone would worry their kids with ideas like "sin" and "damnation" and "hell." They'll grow up soon enough - why not let them just be kids?

I worry about religion - about how it makes people afraid to think critically, afraid to question what they're taught. I worry about the effects it's had and continues to have on society - the subjugation historically of blacks and American Indians because they were "un-Christian" and therefore considered savages; and the forced servility of women based on biblical teachings. And of course as a bi man, I get to see the detrimental effects of religion firsthand everyday. When Cameron and Timothy grow up, will they too vote to keep me from getting married or adopting?

To 95% of Christians (and other theists), why I disbelieve doesn't matter one bit. Logic and reason mean nothing to them when it comes to religion, because to question is to sin. Any inconsistencies or absurdities you force them to confront are solved with the magic wand of "The Lord works in mysterious ways." Adults who believe in God are like children who believe in Santa Claus - it's almost impossible to convince them they're wrong, and even if you somehow succeed, you feel somewhat guilty for shattering their happy illusions.

Religion is a crutch - people rely on it when their lives get difficult. I'd rather stand on my own two feet and risk falling.

I actually think what my nephews tried to do was kind of sweet - it showed that they care about me, and the funny thing is, they seem to like me just as much now as they did before they learned that I was going to hell. Just in case, however, I think I'll slip some books on dinosaurs and evolution in with their birthday gifts. Hey, it's never too early to plant the seeds of doubt.

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