I’m a lukewarm Christian. Over the last twelve months that lukewarm water has been growing noticeably colder. I still have faith — it was hammered into me throughout my Catholic school upbringing — and that core belief feels like something I will not lose, no matter what happens. I try to act the good Christian, but I can’t shake the sense that I’m missing something important. I pray, I speak to you during the day, and I attend church now and then; I do my best to shape my life around what I think you want of me. There aren’t clear, simple rules I can follow; people point to the Bible, yet it often feels cryptic and tied to another age, making it difficult to know what to trust or how to live with certainty.
The problem is Lord; I’m not the child I once was, believing in Noah’s ark, walking on water, the resurrection and all the simple certainties of youth. The Bible is full of wonderful stories for young ones, but those tales begin to make less sense the older you get and the more life you see. There are so many unanswered questions that weigh on me. What did God do before people existed? If Jesus was born about 2,000 years ago, does that mean everyone who lived before then was condemned? Why don’t you show yourself plainly to everyone—such a demonstration would give real credibility to your existence. Why allow so much suffering and evil to persist? The earth seems to be in more turmoil than at any time I can remember; can’t something be done about this? I pray about these things, yet I am one voice among billions—why would you listen to little old me? Bring on the rapture, I say, if that will end the pain. Is AI taking God’s role? That’s a serious question: if we learn how to create consciousness, could artificial intelligence become unstoppable and supplant spiritual authority? These are real and pressing concerns, but they also feel inevitable as technology and society advance. Without delving into all the theological or technical details here, it’s clear we are living in fascinating and unsettling times. So what are your plans, JC? There’s an awful lot of work for you to take on.
I’m a reasonably smart person. If this religion suddenly showed up tomorrow and presented the stories of Jesus and his miracles, most of us wouldn’t give it the time of day. It would feel no different to me than Ron Hubbard and Scientology. If Jesus were to make a second coming, many people still wouldn’t believe him — he would likely be dismissed as just another person claiming to be Jesus. Most intelligent people should be able to see through such claims, yet many do not. For me, belief was largely shaped by early programming and the fear of going to hell. Those fears still linger, though I don’t act on them excessively. I know I have a lot of personal work to do before I could feel worthy of entering the gates of heaven.
Am I really expected to go to church? I have been to only two Masses this year, plus my grandpa’s funeral, and I get absolutely nothing from it. I try to participate, but I just feel awkward and distracted and I want the service to be over as quickly as possible. Surely I can worship you at home and in the way I live my everyday life. There are so many variables and doubts in my head; I’m unsure what you want me to do with this life and where my purpose lies. I don’t intentionally create harm, but I also don’t do much that feels like genuine good. I hardly ever leave my room, so the chances to do either harm or good are limited. I lie down at night and ask you for mercy and forgiveness, yet I’m sometimes unsure what I did that day that truly counts as sin. Is wasting hours watching YouTube one of those things?
The dogma of the Catholic Church makes me wonder, too. Holy Communion was instituted by humans, Confession was created by men. Christmas and Easter were established by people. What am I supposed to believe? I have a simple, sincere faith and that’s all I have. I believe because I was taught to believe. I pray, I talk to you in my waking life, but is the church necessary? I have attended only two Masses in the past twelve months, and I get absolutely nothing from them. I go because I figure that’s what Jesus would want, but I don’t think I’ll be doing that again, Lord. I felt like a child watching the clock, waiting to get out of there. I always love the words “Go and serve your Lord and love one another,” which, as far as I can remember, are the last words of the Mass. Home time!
I’m a huge collector of books and videos on NDEs (near‑death experiences), and without getting too deep into the topic on this blog I’ll create a post that goes into the specifics. After the heart stops and no longer pumps oxygen to the brain you are considered clinically dead. People who report NDEs describe details that would seem impossible to know while clinically dead — for example, conversations between doctors and nurses at the scene. Then comes the life review, where the deceased person experiences a vivid “film” of events from their life, including things they had long forgotten. After that many describe the encounter with a light, which I’m sure we are all familiar with, followed by reunions with passed relatives and beloved pets. The environment is often described as filled with indescribably beautiful colours and sounds that don’t closely resemble anything we know. Souls or consciousnesses are sometimes presented with a choice: remain or return to life. Almost everyone says they wanted to stay, but sometimes returning is required because there is unfinished work on Earth. Those who come back commonly report a transformed outlook and a greatly reduced fear of death. I’m curious what you make of all this, Jesus?
The point of this blog isn’t to have a go at Jesus but rather to explore and question certain aspects of what he represents. I’m not attacking; I simply have some honest questions.