Because there’s money to be made from religion, something called Our Daily Bread exists. It’s a pamphlet of pre-fab daily devotions for Christians, and if you know me, you know I’m not interested.
From Pathetic Life #12
Thursday, May 11, 1995
My mom knows me, knows I’m not interested, but never gives up. She subscribes to Our Daily Bread every day, and she’s been pushing it at me for the past year or so.
When she visited last July and again in August, she wanted to talk about Jesus, a lot, and every day she asked me to read Our Daily Bread with her. The first morning, I politely declined, so the next day she asked more pleadingly, more insistently, and I declined less politely.
Since her visits, we’ve talked on the phone, of course, and she’s read the day’s Our Daily Bread to me a few times. It’s a rudeness, but only a small one, and I haven’t (yet) been rude in response. I don’t listen, is all. I read the newspaper or look out the window until she stops reading the words, and then tell her again that I’m not interested.
Today came an envelope my mom mailed to me, and of course, it’s an Our Daily Bread pamphlet, with this note:
I am sending you Our Daily Bread and hope you will read it. Just take TWO minutes when you get up or go to bed. I’ll probably look up the Scripture that goes with each day’s lesson. You can too if you choose. But I’ll be happy if you just read each page each day, and you will be too.
I love you so much and whether you believe it or not, God loves you even more than I do. He wants you to love him.
Remember, Doug, it’s always nice to worship with other Christians, even Christians you’ve never met before, and to sense the warmth of Christian love. If you still don’t wish to attend church services, you might want to sing “Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love.” That hymn is a little glimpse of what Heaven may be. “When we part… we shall still be joined at the heart.”
Love, Mother
Good God, is it any mystery why I tend to put off opening her letters? She knows I don’t believe and I’ve told her I never will, but her nagging testimony to God’s greatness never ends.
Did you notice? There’s nothing in Mom’s letter about me, or her, or our lives. Only God.
She’s sent letters like this one before, but this is the first with a copy of Our Daily Bread. I looked at the mini-magazine’s cover, and what-the-hell opened it (just to make Mom happy?).
It’s intended to be a few minutes of reading every day, “inspirational,” it says, which sounds great — most days I could use some inspiration. It’s 100% God-based inspiration, though, as if it’s impossible to be inspired by beauty, by nature, by art, by human kindness, bright ideas, or anything except an entity which doesn’t exist.
I read two entries in the middle of the pamphlet, April 15 and 16, and found this laughable assertion:
In the early part of this century, a group of lawyers met in England to discuss the biblical accounts of Jesus’s resurrection. They wanted to see if enough information was available to make a case that would hold up in a court of law. They concluded that Christ’s resurrection was one of the most well-established facts of history!
No further details are provided, about these unnamed lawyers’ remarkable assertion. Are you convinced? I’m not.
Like all other religions, Christianity is based on faith, not evidence. I know the difference, and prefer evidence.
Another day’s entry starts with a slam at the ancient Aztecs’ “tragically misguided pagan rituals,” offering their gods “human blood to drive back the darkness each dawn.” For the faithful, it’s inspirational to criticize other faiths?
I don’t know whether it’s true or false that the Aztecs offered human sacrifice. I’m not an expert on ancient civilizations, and not traipsing to the library to research it — but we’ve already established that Our Daily Bread isn’t a credible source, and their next sentence is an out-and-out canard:
Human sacrifice is abhorrent to us — and even more so to God.
Excuse me? Are you talking about the God I grew up with? Ever heard of the Crusades, or even Christ on a cross — what’s that, if not human sacrifice? For that matter, what’s dedicating your life to God, except the sacrifice of your humanity?
There’s a story where God orders Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Abe gets the wood stacked high, ties the boy down, and he’s ready to light a match before the Lord says, “Gotcha, I was only kidding.” It was a test, see, to find out whether Abraham truly loved the Lord, with ‘love’ defined as following orders, no matter what.
Two quick thoughts on this. First, an omnipotent God would know the answer without a test. And second, obeying whatever the voice in your head commands, with no conscience or common sense — that’s Charles Manson or Jim Jones.
OK, enough about Our Daily Bread. I gave it a chance, against my better judgment, but it’s worthless to anyone but the faithful, and into the trash it goes.
Mom, I’m still not a Christian, never will be, and still have no interest in Our Daily Bread. I’ve told you this a hundred times, so it would be lovely if you’d read Our Daily Bread yourself and leave me out of it.
No, I didn’t send that reply, or any reply, but I’m flying to Seattle next week, to visit Mom and the family. I’m looking forward to it… and dreading it.
This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.
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