Honestly, this is why I don’t discuss Mormon history and the massive, gaping chasms in their claims of Truth with my parents. My parents are old–old enough that the family is talking about who is going to call the coroner, who’s going to deal with tying up finances, etc.–and knowing that they’ve wasted an entire lifetime and hundreds of thousands of dollars in tithing on a con isn’t going to do anything useful at this point. Fifty years ago? Sure, they would have had plenty of time to come to terms with it. Now? Meh.
I mean, I wasn’t. At all. But the dying little old ladies who sundowned so bad that they sometimes thought I was their grandchild? When they asked if I believed in Jesus, I’d bite my tongue and tell them yes. I hated having to lie to their faces, I hate even thinking about it all these years later, but some of them had nothing to look forward to except “going to heaven” by that point. Lying seemed the most ethical choice.
I mean to make it easier I guess I would just tell myself I am convinced that Jesus existed. So I believe in him. But not “in Him” capital H.
Or you could imagine yourself cheering Jesus on and hoping he will do well in sports ball for the Jerusalem league. I could see him as a solid basketball player with the magical powers and all.
Honestly, this is why I don’t discuss Mormon history and the massive, gaping chasms in their claims of Truth with my parents. My parents are old–old enough that the family is talking about who is going to call the coroner, who’s going to deal with tying up finances, etc.–and knowing that they’ve wasted an entire lifetime and hundreds of thousands of dollars in tithing on a con isn’t going to do anything useful at this point. Fifty years ago? Sure, they would have had plenty of time to come to terms with it. Now? Meh.
When I worked in a nursing home, I was Christian.
I mean, I wasn’t. At all. But the dying little old ladies who sundowned so bad that they sometimes thought I was their grandchild? When they asked if I believed in Jesus, I’d bite my tongue and tell them yes. I hated having to lie to their faces, I hate even thinking about it all these years later, but some of them had nothing to look forward to except “going to heaven” by that point. Lying seemed the most ethical choice.
I mean to make it easier I guess I would just tell myself I am convinced that Jesus existed. So I believe in him. But not “in Him” capital H.
Or you could imagine yourself cheering Jesus on and hoping he will do well in sports ball for the Jerusalem league. I could see him as a solid basketball player with the magical powers and all.
Nothing wrong with lying there obviously.