So I thought I might write a little today. It is the second day of August in the year of our Lord 2014. I’ve just finished reading a blog from the Times of Israel using G-D, as the author spells it, as an excuse for killing children in Gaza.
Why do bigots hide behind God? Why do they have quote scripture continuously? I suppose I’ve just answered my own question. They have to quote the bible because they believe it adds credence to their hate, disguises it.
‘and the lord said unto the true believer, level your enemy, rip babes from wombs as they are the seed of the enemy’.
I just made that up, but I guarantee something like that is up on that blog right now.
We have our own religious bigots in this country too. Hate is often hidden in a wooden horse of Troy; vile spewed on neighbours, goods coveted, wives rode and parents disobeyed.
I remember my first Christian bible. I must have been about six or seven when I received it as a gift from my parents. It had a bright, beautiful golden cover. Inside, full colour pages illustrated cautionary tales, known as parables. It’s techni-coloured painted plates seem a world away now from the religions of men.
I drifted away from organised religion at the tender age of ten. I tendered my resignation to a delightfully shocked Sunday school teacher; her ankle length pleated tartan skirt may have pleased the lord as she handed out that weeks’ Sunday school sheets, but it frightened me. I knew then what I was going to write in the blank space beside the question, ‘What do you want to be when you grown up?
It had the desired affect at the end of class when all the pages were handed up for a gold star. Her eyes widened as she read what I had written and deciphered the accompanying artwork. I was simply fed up with the whole false charade and hypocrisy of a church that prospered, while people suffered in the world.
Of course I never became a stripper, but even at that young age, the hypocrisy of organised religion was apparent; the parables extolling the virtues of a simple existence while churches got bigger and shinier along with the cars of the congregation outside turned me right off.
And so here endeth the lesson and my rant, please wait in your pew for the collection baskets; war is an expensive business, all donations kindly accepted.