Sunday, February 17, 2013

Jesus Saves...When He Shops Amway

Ok, so as you may have guessed, we at FTG are not the most spiritual individuals. We do not worship false idols, unless you count Neil deGrasse Tyson and Neil Gaiman. We eat meat whenever the fuck we want. And while we don't generally do much on Sunday, it's more a matter of laziness than God's law. 

I don't feel the need to get all up in people's grills about my non-religious status, especially not on Facebook, but I'm guessing it's pretty obvious, based on what I post and what I don't like or share.

However, it has come to my attention that many of my friends have found Jesus. I do not begrudge them this, but I evidently missed the passage in the Bible that says that upon joining a religion, thou shalt annoy the living fuck out of anyone you happen to have even the most minimal contact with.

The ones who really make me fear for the future of the human race are the ones who thank God for every fucking insignificant thing in their lives. You know the ones: "My washer was still under warranty, so I didn't have to pay for the repairs-Praise God!" and "Kelsey aced her math final-God is good!" Ugh. Just...just UGH. Do these people honestly think that is there is some sandaled fellow living in the clouds, he has time to worry about your kid's fucking test? What fucking arrogance. Because there are no bigger problems needing his attention than your plight, having to drive your car the half-mile to the laundromat. Praise God indeed, for saving you from the fucking Auschwitz that is your special snowflake getting a C on a test. But you never hear them blaming God when little Kelsey breaks her arm skiing, and that washing machine manages to destroy hubby's best sweater. No sir. 

They are just so over-the-moon excited about the sweet baby Jesus, and, quite frankly, I find it creepy. I used to think of it as a form of addiction-suddenly, their entire life is consumed with this exotic new thing, and it shields them, to varying degrees, from the stresses of their lives. Isn't that how drug addiction starts out?

But then I realized that where an addict's body has a physical and very real addiction to their drug of choice, a person doesn't develop a physical dependency to Jesus, or Christianity, or their local church. This is solely a mental and emotional relationship.

So instead, I started thinking that knowing a person new to religion is like knowing someone when they first start selling Amway. ALL you hear about is the bright future this lifestyle will afford them-tropical vacations, fancy cars, being your own boss. In their minds, they are just winners who haven't actually won yet. Their dreams are set so high that there is no way it's going to work out. 

Eventually they start to figure out what anyone with half a brain knew for the duration of their little trip into Dreamville-that the closest they are getting to a tropical vacation is a sales conference at the Super 8, which they have to pay to attend, and a cheap-ass Amway tote bag from said conference. The only way they're scoring a car out of the deal is if they MacGyver a vehicle out of all the fucking selling materials they have accumulated. They are left empty-handed and broken-hearted.

So here's a plan-bear with me. How about instead of resting all of your laurels on this dude in the sky, you come up with a Plan B? How about you put the onus on YOU to make your life what you want it to be? Count on yourself to make good choices for YOU, not for the aforementioned bearded guy? Because, here's a newsflash-if you believe in God, then you likely also believe he gave us free will. How is being a total sheep to a religion that is full of contradictions any semblance of free will? 

Religion is really just the world's grandest pyramid scheme. Religion and war are the two biggest moneymakers in the world, and they are pretty regularly wrapped up in each other. Coincidence? It's all about the benjamins, people. 

But let me give you a word of advice-my guess is that if there is a God, he is getting pretty fucking sick of being expected to do everything. Stop praying to him about stupid shit, and stop praising him for things he likely couldn't give two holy shits about. Because I'm pretty sure he thinks you're douchebags. Stop talking about "God's plan" when horrible things befall people. Stop thinking every idiotic, insignificant part of your day is all thanks to good ol' Yahweh. For real. Cut the shit. God is patient and kind, so I hear, but he's not your fucking therapist, or your personal assistant.

But go on-keep giving your imaginary friend 10% of your paycheck. Make no solid plans for bettering yourself as a human being, or making your life better-just let it all go and let Jesus sort it for you. Solid plan. Maybe, instead of doing everything you can to be a good Christian, do everything you can to be a good person, a good friend, a good parent, a good sibling, a good son or daughter, a good spouse. I will sit here, not having an imaginary friend, especially not one on a payroll. I'll smile when you berate me for not following "The Word," because deep down I feel pretty certain that if there is a heaven, you probably aren't getting in, because God hates assholes. Thank god for your clean pap smear, and for the fact that your favorite brand of Lean Cuisine was at Shaw's. Praise Jesus.