Lask week I saw Bill Maher’s “Religulous,” a documentary about people believing in the silliest things that make up religion.
Bill Maher never found why people hold unshakable faith in “facts” that are “obviously” inconclusive: like Noah’s Arc or Jesus’s Resurrection. Why do they “just know?” He questions why doubts and reasons never seem to be able to creep into those that believe in God, why pupils of religion hold the kind of absolute obedience similar to kings and queens of the past, toward systems of beliefs that are just plain ludicrous.
Not having a religion is a privilege: if you’re in a prison and God is all you got, then both Bill and I agree – it’s understandable for you to be religious.
What Bill fails to realize is that the privileged can also be hallow on the inside. You can be endowed with wealth but be completely uncertain in life. Bill Maher seems to imply, that the privileged who have fervent beliefs are simply too lazy or too weak to think for themselves. I tend to agree, because to accept not knowing is really a lot more difficult than to accept a simple (but probably wrong) answer to the greatest questions of life.
But I also agree that there is nothing wrong with being lazy and weak, we are human beings. We are selfish and maybe being happy requires us to just choose ignorance over “the Greater Good.”
When the fundamentals of our existence become meaningless, that is hard to ignore, let alone accept. I wish I can argue that I am the strong and brave type that choose to not sink into religious fever, but I have to admit that I am not happy, not happy because I cannot rest on simple answers when I know they are wrong. The agnostics, as well call ourselves, are like the majority of people in New York City – pissed off and perpetually discontent, loving and enjoying life but somehow unfilled underneath it all. I hope I can at least believe that this is okay.
Fervently religious people are happy; their mind may be clouded, in denial, but they are content. They may curse at other people or treat them out of God’s kindness, either way – they are happy. This void in our mind of “I don’t know” sometimes renders the world a little like New York City – bitter, lonely, and cold – because that’s how people are when they don’t know.
My mother became a Christian a few years ago, since then she has become much more calm – she no longer yells at me or gets crazy or hormonal. I don’t agree with her views, but I think “God” or her relationship with this possibly nonexistent being has made her relationship with me better. I don’t care if God really exists, if this thing makes my mother easier to deal with, I’ll let it pass.
