Speaking of being fair, I wonder if our fascination with atheism is well-focused.
If Lent,the season we are currently slogging through, reminds us of anything,
it reminds us that Christians are often practicing atheists.

As I said, philosophical atheists cannot hate God. Christians,
on the other hand, know God exists and therefore can and
do hate him. One thing you do with persons you hate is pretend
like they don't exist.

We dutifully say our prayers in the morning, but then go about the day
hardly giving God a thought, making decisions and engaging the day
as if we had left him at home.

At the end of a whirlwind day, we fall exhausted into bed, and,
if we are particularly devout, we offer up another prayer.
But the picture at the center of this prayer-framed life is often blank.
Take simple moral choices.

Jesus tells us not to lust. But that doesn't stop the occasional peek at porn.
We are told to speak the truth in love, and yet we tell so many white lies,
we need an Excel sheet to keep track.

We know we should turn the other cheek, but we delight in imagining rituals of revenge.
There are unconscious sins — the thoughtless word or angry gesture that comes
out of nowhere. But then there are the deliberate sins: we have a moment to
ponder our duty, which lies clearly before us.
No question what God is calling us to do. And we do the opposite.
If this isn't a form of atheism, even of hating God, I don't know what is.

No wonder Jesus uses stark language to describe faith: We either hate
Jesus (John 15:23-24) or we hate ourselves (John 12:25).
That's what it comes down to. And we often know who "our first hate" is.
During Lent, faith becomes stark and simple for a while.
We make a small vow — let's say, not to eat sweets for the season.
It's a silly vow, which is why many eschew it, thinking it not serious enough.

But I have found that the sillier the vow, the more difficult it is to keep.
It is the very silliness of the vow that tempts one to cheat: What difference
does it make to the cosmic order if I have a piece of candy before Easter?
What's at stake, of course, is not the piece of candy, but the vow supposedly
made in love and devotion.It turns out that I apparently don't have that
much love or devotion, because I violate most vows within hours.

Lent reminds me that, for all my prayers and church attendance
and devotion to Jesus and SoulWork pontifications, I'm a practical atheist.
I let God into my life when it feels good. And when it doesn't — which is
most of the time — I pretend he doesn't exist.This would be a horrifying
reality to face up to if we didn't know another piece of news — that the
One who died for us on Good Friday died knowing he was giving his life
for a bunch of atheists. Atheists who would populate his church, and take
his name in vain. No wonder the church has such a bad reputation.

No wonder philosophical atheists hate religion.As I said, many
Christians are upset with the New Atheists, but I wonder if we
should be more riled about the old atheists, the ones found in
the pews, who proclaim their theism while living like the average
pagan.

Instead of shaking our heads at the inability of some to
believe in God, we would do well to fall on our knees in fear
and trembling, recalling that there is a God who, in word
and deed, at least believes in us.


Mark Galli

written on
8:27 PM