get right with god

I'm going to start my own religion. Would you like to join and become a follower? My religion, for which I have not yet chosen a name, will teach love. Love for everyone, no matter how you look, how you think, what you wear, or who you love. Everyone will be treated equally. There will be no leaders. We will all help each other.

This religion will teach kindness and charity. Sure, other religions claim to teach that, but they don't. We will be polite and non-judgmental. We will never berate or belittle you for the choices you make, as long as they are not harmful or impede upon anyone else's choices. We will teach politeness and tolerance and humility. 

We will have no dietary laws or rules about what sort of garments you should wear in order to make your prayers more effective. Hell, we won't even have prayers, so you needn't worry! We won't have specific houses of worship, either. You can practice love and kindness everywhere, as you should anyway. Religions have rituals that make sense to the followers and appear goofy to everyone else. We won't have to worry about that. We'll have none, unless you want to hop on one leg or clap your hands. We won't mind or judge.

We won't have any reverence for any imaginary "higher being" that allegedly controls everything. If such a being existed, there would be no starvation or sickness or hatred. Offering prayer and sacrifice to this imaginary being obviously does nothing because all of that strife is still as prevalent as it has been for thousands of years. We are on our own and we have apparently been going about it all wrong. I suggest a worldwide movement of peace and love. Sure, other religions claim to preach the concept of love, but they do not. They teach love among their followers while mocking followers of other religions.

With the exception of natural disasters, every single problem in the world has a basis in religion — wars, hatred, bigotry, violence, animosity, racism. What happened to "Peace on Earth, Goodwill Toward Man?" Or is that only during Christmas? I sit here writing this on Yom Kippur, while, around the corner from me, there are synagogues stuffed with hypocrites who believe that fasting and chanting in Hebrew will allow them to atone for their sins. Sins they will go right back to committing after they've shoved a bagel in their maws at sundown.

So, whaddaya say? Wanna join me? What have you got to lose? Don't want to join me? That's okay, too.

See? It's working already.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

streets of fire (and brimstone)

Why are Christians so concerned with non-Christians' current convictions and afterlife fate? And why do they need to spread the teachings of their scripture to followers of other scripture and convince them that theirs is better? Proselytizing is a predominately Christian phenomenon and I just don't get it. (According to the sage source Wikipedia, the groups noted for their extensive proselytism include Anglicans, Episcopalians, Born-Again Christians, Jehovah's Witnesses, Jews for Jesus [affectionately called Christians among Jews], Roman Catholics, Southern Baptists, Mormons and Seventh Day Adventists — all Christian-based sects. It should be noted that Jews do not actively seek converts, as we are not completely happy with all of the members of our current natural roster.)

Guerrilla preaching is everywhere. I've gotten crucifix-emblazoned pamphlets proclaiming my inevitable trip to Hell handed to me in the train station. I've had leaflets — warning the grim consequences if I don't accept Jesus as my one true savior — waiting for me under the windshield wiper of my car at a mall. And if you live in or nearby a large city, you'll see that a bustling street corner is the perfect pulpit for preaching "The Word" according to.... whoever.

Street corner religion is most intriguing. There's a guy I pass most mornings in Philadelphia's busy Suburban Station on my two-block walk to work. For the most part, he is dirty and disheveled, save for a Philadelphia Phillies cap proudly perched on his matted hair. He is dressed in torn sweats and a windbreaker that has seen better days. He offers passers-by small, black & white circulars of a religious nature. He mutters an unintelligible speech punctuated with a random shout of "Jesus" after every third or fourth word. During baseball season, when the Phillies were suffering through an extended slump, I figured his Lord had better things to attend to and was ignoring his loyal service.

I am fascinated by another single prophet addressing his permanent al fresco congregation at the corner of 16th and Market Streets, a weathered volume of (possibly) scripture in hand, screaming his own interpretation to anyone within earshot. On various occasions, I have heard snippets of his doctrine to include advice on how to raise children, dealing with unconfessed sins, following Jesus' predestination for working as a stockbroker or at McDonald's, and the Blessed Virgin Mother offering transportation service to the airport. A co-worker tells me that he sputters out the word "lesbian" whenever she crosses his path on her way home.

I'm not much for religion. Most of it makes no sense to me. And when you have a guy like this as your spokesperson, I'm gonna need a little more convincing that this is the pathway to salvation. Although, I may take Mary up on that ride to the airport.

losing my religion

I see my friend Randi at the train station a few times a week since she and her family moved into the neighborhood. Coincidentally, we work in the same office building.

This morning, the train schedules were way off because when I arrived at the station at my regular time, the platform was packed with five times the usual amount of waiting passengers. A few minutes later, a visibly annoyed Randi stood by my side. She informed me that she had already been at the station earlier in the morning, waiting for a train that never arrived. She told me that several trains had zipped by with no intention of stopping. Off on the distant track, a train approached and we had this brief exchange...

R: "I hope this train stops. Please God."

The train wooshes by, leaving mussed hair and rattling newspapers in its wake.

JPiC: "It didn't stop. There is no God."

R:"What?"

JPiC: "You just said 'Please God' and the train didn't stop. Your God has forsaken you."

R: "That's because of the jerks at SEPTA! (the region's mass transit company)"

JPiC: "The train goes by and it's SEPTA's fault. But, had the train stopped, would it have meant that God had answered your prayers?"

R: "Shut up."