Re: Dan Brown - 'The Da Vinci Code' & 'Angels And Demons'
CraigSmith said:
...just out of interest, could I ask you what your religious stance is?
Well, I've been around the block a few times! (Beware: you're going to find out more than you wanted to know, but I think you'll find it interesting.)
My parents were "technically Jewish," but never practiced it. They tried putting me in a Jewish Sunday school when I was little (about 4 or 5 or so), but I hated it so much that they took me out, and that was that for a while.
Then my mother enrolled me in a Catholic day care in a church down the street. The nuns were so mean that I would sneak out and go home. That didn't last long!
Then we moved into our first house. We moved from renting in a poor neighborhood to buying our first house in another poor neighborhood. For entertainment, we used to stand in front of the TV store and watch wrestling (this was in the days when TV — then a great novelty — first began to replace radio). They'd put a TV in the window on a timer, tuned a set to wrestling, and so there was a crowd standing on the sidewalk. They'd bring
food and folding chairs!
My other entertainment (along with a crowd of other neighbors) was watching the Pentecostal "holy rollers" go into a trance, dance around singing and speaking in tongues. (The little neighborhood Pentecostal church had no air conditioning on hot nights, so they'd leave the doors open.)
A few years later, my mother enrolled me in a Christian Science Sunday school, along with a few other neighborhood kids. The teacher was a very nice young lady who tried her best to explain the tenets of the church, but we thought they were so crazy that we just laughed at their absurdity — very rude! I dropped out of that too.
Then something happened that had a great effect on my view of religion and of
God. My parents, and my maternal grandma and I had gone to Sears to do some shopping. I must have been 6 or 7, maybe 8. Grandma and I stayed in the car while my parents went to the nursery for some
plants. I was in the front seat, and my grandma was in the back. We were chatting, but she fell silent. I turned around to see why she'd stopped talking. She was in the middle of having a stroke.
She'd keeled over onto her side. Her eyes were crossed. She was foaming at the mouth. I was terrified. I didn't know what to do. Should I stay with her, or should I go looking for my parents? So I began to pray. Hard. Nothing happened. So I finally decided to go find my parents, praying to find them. Finally I found them, and told them what was going on. I forget what happened after that, but I assume that my parents got Grandma to a hospital, where she appeared to recover fully. But when I got a chance to think about it, I came to the conclusion that prayer wasn't worth a damn, and that God didn't give a damn. For many months I carried the thought that somehow I was the cause of what happened. Finally I broke down and told my Dad what I thought, and he hastened to assure me that I'd had nothing to do with it. But before I told him, the guilt was overwhelming.
There was a point in grade school where I was invited to become a member of a Presybterian after-school club. The only thing I remember was the punch and cookies, and that I lost interest.
When I was about 12 or 13, I began to consciously dismiss Christianity as a viable idea. After all: Here is a God who impregnated somebody else's virgin wife — which struck me as rape — and then loaded down his only son with all the sins of the world, and allowed him to be tortured to death. It also struck me as patent nonsense that this God allowed even little babies to be permanently damned to fry in hell forever unless they'd been baptized. It struck me as particular nonsense that people were
born sinful. That was my take on Christianity as I understood it then, and it really hasn't changed all that much since. But don't be offended: as I have studied other religions, I've pretty much come to the same conclusions about all of them — that they are all some unique combination of wisdom and tommyrot — some more, some less. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Then I grew up some more and got into high school. One day I told my mother a mildly anti-Semitic joke. She looked at me and said, "You shouldn't say things like that." I said, "Why not, it's funny!" She said "Well,
you're Jewish." I was both stunned and scared. (I'd no memory of the Jewish Sunday school, and hadn't until well into adulthood.) It was as if someone told me I was really a Martian, and I felt like I had suddenly grown an extra head.
When I went to school the next day, I told my friends, who were as astonished as I was. They immediately made me the house expert on Judaism, and I knew nothing about it!
At 18 I joined the Air Force. So when, at 2 or 3 in the morning after my swearing-in as a new airman, we landed at the training base, we were subject to hours of filling out forms and being asked endless questions. One of the questions a bored airman clerk asked me was, "What religion are you?" for the first time in my life, I answered "Jewish," expecting something horrible to happen. He merely checked off something on a form.
The military has to be able to say that they take care of their people's spiritual needs. To that end, every incoming airman is mandated to go to ONE religious service. So one day my Flight (which is the equivalent to an army company) attended the mandatory service, which was your generic one-size-fits-all Christian service and that was that. But it wasn't.
Somehow or other, I found out that there were Jewish services held on the base by a Jewish chaplain, and that any airman could be excused from basic training long enough to go to services. They
had to let you go. The Christians went on Sundays, when there was no basic training anyway. The Jews got to go on Friday nights and Saturday mornings, because the Jewish Sabbath goes from Friday sundown to Saturday sundown. So I got
two whacks at it during each week. This fostered resentment in some of the
men, and I got my first taste of real anti-Semitism.
I started studying Judaism with all the zeal of a convert, and was soon heavily involved, and that lasted all the time — more or less — that I was in the service.
After I got out and began college, Judaism faded out of my life. I found "civilian synagogues" not to my taste: too full of spiritual hypocrisy and too clubby. Obviously this was me more than it was them.
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