The Christian Fairy Tale
Back when I was a fervent defender of “the faith” I used to be genuinely puzzled at how otherwise seemingly intelligent people could fall for the preposterous claims of Mormonism, Scientology, Jehovah’s Witnesses and other groups Christians routinely label as “cults.” A holy book delivered by an angel and engraved on golden tablets that nobody has ever seen? Jesus making a post-resurrection appearance to a lost tribe of Israelites who had fled to the Americas on boat around the time of the Babylonian Exile, 587 BC? Only 144,000 people in the top-tier of heaven? This is blatantly crazy stuff.
And all the while I criticized cults I believed in a First Century Jewish itinerant preacher who was born of a virgin and was, in some bizarre sense, his own father. He walked on water, fed thousands with a few fish and loaves of bread, and rose from the dead. And if you telepathically communicate with him and consume his flesh and blood under the form of bread and wine, he will transport you to a magical kingdom at the time of your death.
It used to make all the sense in the world to me. I wonder why it took so long to realize that there is not a single shred of objective, empirical evidence to support any of Christianity’s metaphysical claims.
In the past I used to enjoy going to “theological conferences” and hearing great theologians expound on the finer points of such pressing topics as justification and sanctification. I now realize those meetings had all the intellectual integrity of a Star Trek convention. Probably less, actually.