I Heard it Downtown

An atheist friend of mine says that I’m only a Christian because I was told that all those crazy things in the Bible (like that whole love thy neighbor nonsense) were true and if I were a truly enlightened, independent thinker, I would reject Christianity.

Uh-huh.

The atheist is right, however. I was told that Christianity is true by my mother. This is the same woman who told me to buckle my seatbelt, to not smoke cigarettes, that I should eat my vegetables every day, that there were no monsters underneath my bed or in my closet so there was no reason to be afraid but that there was no shame in being afraid either, that I should do my homework, be kind to my peers, be respectful to my elders, be wise with my money, practice the damn piano, who taught me how to play Scrabble, how to ride a bike, how to drive, probably how to walk and talk, and certainly everything I’ve ever known about the professional ethics of the insurance business.

My mother raised three kids almost entirely on her own, put herself through college and wanted to make sure her kids had all the same opportunities. Yes, I am only going to college because she told me I could go to college.

Clearly, my mother is crazy. After all, she continues to believe that a virgin-born son of a carpenter with a small religious following (historical fact) performed miracles (widely believed to be possible at the time), committed sedition (historical fact), was crucified (historical fact), died (historical fact) and was buried (historically probable), and three days later rose from the dead (impossible!). Yes, that last thing is impossible! I proclaim a faith in impossible things. It’d hardly be faith if I believed otherwise, right?

So, I will go to church tomorrow, and I will go next week, and I will keep going to church until my mother gives me a reason to doubt anything she’s ever told me. Hasn’t happened yet.