What Religion Means to Me

“In heaven, all the interesting people are missing.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

I remember when I was a child I had a teddy bear. I would sleep with my teddy bear and play with my teddy bear all day long. The toy gave me comfort when I was sad and made me smile when I was bored, that was until I turned 7 and I grew out of novel toys. I knew lots of other girls like me who still had their toys and teddy bears but I didn’t change my mind. When I was 9, I watched a scary movie about dolls which prompted me to sleep with my teddy bear again, albeit out of irrational fear that the bear would attack me in my sleep if I didn’t. I eventually faced my fears and realised it was stupid and illogical to be afraid of a toy.

Is religion illogical?

But there are some people who refuse to grow out of this childish sentimental phase of believing in fairy tales, which is not so childish when you realise the mental gymnastics one must do to not take everything literally. I was a christian for most of my childhood and I was tormented by the fear of Satan and the eternal torturing of hell every time I questioned a little scientific mistake in the bible.

Is Hell real?

Religion was like an abusive man to me. He mistreated me and hit me when I question his, well, questionable actions toward others. He was elitist and everybody had to be like him or he would avoid them and so would their families. He was the terror of the town and demanded to be respected. There were many who had heard of only his noble deeds but not his deceiving of the many in the town and his Machiavellian leadership.

Is that religion?

Picture a newborn baby and a smiling mother, glad that here baby is alive and safe. Perhaps she thanks a god for giving her a child. Picture a deformed baby, prehaps he is missing an eye and will never see again or maybe he is missing a limb and will never walk again. Will the mother thank God for giving her a deformed, sick baby? Is it even God’s fault for giving her the sick baby or is it just all part of his ‘plan’. What if a child is killed in a car crash? Is it all of God’s plan? Did God kill a child or is that part of his plan? How can God be moral?

Is God dead?

Why does religion hate me? Why cannot we live in peace? Why can’t I be religious as hard as I try? Why can’t I accept religion? Am I selfish for not loving a god? Why can’t others accept me? Does God exist or does he only exist in my mind? Am I my own God?

Should we question or follow blindly?