I have a colleague/friend whose dad has been sick for some time. He told me that his dad had taken a turn for the worse recently and I said, in all sincerity, I will say a prayer for him. And I did.
Today, I get an e-mail that tells me his dad has died. So, in spite of all of the people that prayed for this man, including a heathen like me, the all knowing, all everything Jesus said, “Nah, not this time”.
This just underscores my problem with the all powerful Oz Jesus. He randomly decides who he wants to listen to and who he doesn’t want to listen to. Importantly, he can never be wrong. In this case, he just called his “son” home. If the guy lived, it would have been “God’s will”. How convenient.
Can I tell you I have just about had it will all of this hocus, fu**in pocus? This is the same God that lets children suffer and die on a daily basis. However, it is not up to us to ask questions. We just must accept it for what it is. I call bullsh**. The mystery man has no more control over who lives or dies than he does on which team is going to win March Madness. (Bookies, on the other hand, do have that kind of power).
I understand that my friend’s dad was sick and things weren’t looking good. But I reached out an olive branch to Jesus and said, “Hey, give the guy a break and let him enjoy his family a little longer”. I am an idiot for having this imaginary conversation with myself. I might as well have been praying to Bozo or a hockey puck.
Let’s just call a spade a spade. There is no God. Not now… not ever. If you choose to believe in God, knock yourself out. For me, I have had it. My intellect tells me that for all of the suffering I have known, and those that I love have known, OBVIOUSLY there is no God. You could make a much better argument for a sadistic, hateful Satan but nothing for God.
And lest you think this is some epiphany based on the passing of one man, you are wrong. This is a lifetime of betrayals, false hopes, and lost promises. Everything I am or have is due to the love and consideration of those around me in my life. They make me who I am, for better or worse. God / Jesus / Allah / Smitty / or whoever else you want to lineup as the “chosen one” is little more than a money making industry.
So, the big question is, will I be smote for my words? Frankly, at this very moment, I could give a sh**. Welcome to Monday morning. Hallelujah. TL