Crisis of Faith(less)

A Christian friend, who no doubt saw the recent Christopher Hitchens debate where Mr. Hitchens was asked a very similar question, asked me if there is a single argument for Christianity that has given me pause.

No, and for that matter, not a single argument for any theistic or metaphysical religion has given me even the slightest pause.  Even when I answer a question with, “I don’t know,” I have always been able to follow that with a, “but you’re dead-wrong.  Let’s go do some research together.”  I cannot be convinced with all the thousands of years of unscientific and, often, downright false evidence piled up over the many thousands of years of religion that any intervening god exists.

Are there arguments for Deism that can convince me?  Not yet, but some have come close to doing the job before disappearing in a puff of logic.  Deism still requires certainty that a sentient being created all things, or, at the very least, set them in motion, and the only thing I’m absolutely certain of is if Chimbley steps on my keyboard one more time, I’m locking him in the bathroom.

Can I be convinced of agnosticism?  Absolutely!  In fact, I already have.  I am an agnostic Atheist.  I don’t know that there aren’t gods, but I can definitely shade the probability toward the no side.

But what of religious feelings?  So many people, when asked about proof for God, talk about the feelings of forgiveness and beauty they find in Christianity.

I was listening through my new Tom Waits CD, Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards, when the stomping junkyard beat halted and gentle piano music picked up.  Tom began singing the Johnny Cash song “Down There By The Train” while gargling his usual marbles.  The lyrics were very moving and I felt a religious pull I haven’t felt in years.  The song and the message actually brought tears to my eyes.

There’s a golden moon that shines up through the mist
And I know that your name will be on that list
There’s no eye for an eye, there’s no tooth for a tooth
I saw Judas Iscariot carrying John Wilkes Booth
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there where the train goes slow

So if you live in darkness, if you live in shame
All of the passengers will be treated the same
And old Humpty Jackson and Gyp the Blood will sing
And Charlie Whitman is holding on to Dillinger’s wings
They’re down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there where the train goes slow

So if you’ve lost all your hope; you lost all your faith
I know you will be cared for, I know you will be safe
And all the shameful, and all of the whores
And even the soldier who pierced the heart of the Lord
Is down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there where the train goes slow

The lyrics, and the ragged and earthy way in which they were presented, actually moved me to see myself as a wretched, hopeless sinner in need of redemption and given redemption as a free gift.  The message that even the Charles Whitmans and John Wilkes Booths of this world could be completely forgiven touched (not convinced) me deeply.  I can see why so many churches play slow, repetitive songs with humble lyrics before they call people forward to be saved.  In the heat of the moment, I would have walked forward if this were played in church.

It’s there that I made the step of logic that so many moderate and liberal theists fail to make:  I pushed aside that feeling and actually analysed what caused it.

I asked myself, am I really accountable for the sins that my forefathers committed?  Do I want to be forgiven by the Creator of the universe for those sins and any others that I committed myself?  After thinking about it for a minute, I answered myself:  No.

Even if there is a divine engineer to meet me in an old trainyard after I die, I will not let him forgive me for crimes against my fellow man.  When I insult or strike a person, when I break a person’s property, when I betray a person’s trust, it’s their option to forgive me or not and it’s my obligation only to ask them for forgiveness, not a deity.  No deity has the obligation or even the right to forgive me for what I’ve done to another human being.

Also, Charles Whitman, John Wilkes Booth, John Dillinger, and gang leader Humpty Jackson were bad people.  They were murderers and I am not a murderer.  The families of their victims, as unlikely as it might be, could have forgiven them.  However, no matter how much forgiveness is piled upon those murderers, I am not morally equal to them.  There are people who have done much less harm in their lives than I have in mine, and I would not want to tarnish their good deeds by saying that I can erase my past and be just as good as them.

As beautiful as the song is, and as touching as it may be on the first listen, it is essentially a plea for the erasure of personal responsibility and a call for mindless following, coerced by guilt.

Still, I will listen to the song and be moved by the simple melody, beautiful lyrics and earthy presentation.  Feelings aren’t evidence for anything other than the innate human sense of guilt.