My Battle with Christianity
by John Massaro
THIS IS A SERIOUS composition about an important stage in my life. I’ll get to it. But first, in response to “Dad Tested Positive For Satan,” which appears on my Covid Vaccine Lowdown Blog, I received the following from a Jeff in Illinois on May 2, 2022:
1st are you a wop ? I am.
Anyway it amuses yet confuses me when a guy is so evidence based in 1 area is then so fact averse in another.
The entire Corona thing is a hoax. The vax is poison. On that we agree.
Whether there really is a new strain of something, or if there was an attempt to unleash a biological weapon of sorts, or whether this is just the flu etc, I’m not quite certain and don’t really care to research too much.
Total deaths year on year were the same until the vax, and the poison vax stab demonstrates that the jewrats want white males and Christians genocided and then later the rest of whites and most of everyone else. So it doesn’t matter if the supposed virus was a lab creation for that purpose or not, because the vax clearly is. This is all preponderance of the evidence based deductive reasoning.
Then you take a non evidence based potshot at Christians in 1 of your articles that I just read.
In our human experience we see no evidence whatsoever of things appearing from nothing. Vacuum of space creating matter, or matter creating life, or matter creating functioning anything has NEVER been witnessed.
All of our human history shows intelligence creating everything that we are familiar with bar nothing.
Tornados don’t hit junk yards and create ferraris or apple computers let alone self replicating ferraris or apple computers, or further yet a male and female ferrari and male and female apple computer that can then breed together and then self replicate.
This type of “theory” is blatant ignorant stupidity an astronomical level on the face of it. And the “possibilities” I just mentioned at least already have the proper materials in finished form available(metal, plastic, etc) and the prime mover (the tornado).
A vacuum universe and primordial muck have neither.
So if 500 trillion tornados hit 500 trillion different junkyards in 5 years or 50 million years you’d have the same result, ie a slightly different version of scrambled up junk.
So the common sense you mention regarding Corona and vax stabs evaporates in your attack on an intelligent Creator in favor of idiotic accident theories.
You even mention tornados specifically in attacking Christians of the South, but dont we all make our children suffer grueling training camps for sports and the military, and mental anguish and stress in academia ?? Of course we do. Why ?? Because it is a short window of training compared to the benefit we hope these things will hold for the next sports season or for the rest of their life in their careers etc.
Why couldn’t the same be true for a Creator God with regard to trouble He allows us to face in 80 years on this earth in preparation for eternity ??
Further, man has how many TRILLIONS of hours in human and computer thought and activity trying to create life from non-living matter ??
We haven’t been successful even with genius humans and super computer computing AND THIS IS WITH ALREADY EXISTING MATTER.
In fact, if I give you the carcasses of 5000 cockroaches that I’ve blended in my Oster blender and you assemble every scientist on earth and all their computers in June 2022 yall cannot rebuild me A SINGLE LIVE COCKROACH EVEN WITH THE SPECIFIC PARTS OF 50,000 DEAD COCKROACHES.
Yet you will tell me with a straight face that the universe popped out of nothing and that life ACCIDENTALLY happened by fluke from mud ??
So you believe that primordial muck can create life but that thousands(or millions) of years of multiplied human genius coupled to supercomputers can’t create life ??
REALLY ?? YOU ACTUALLY WANT ME TO BELIEVE THAT YOU BLIEVE THAT ??
And that the same combined genius and supercomputers can’t even get humans to 200 years old here in 2022 but primordial muck was capable of creating us and getting us to 80 ?!?!
These are all FAR FAR GREATER JUMPS out of the mind of reason than believing in a vax or a fake virus.
Or perhaps it’s just a much larger jump in arrogance and fraud ??
It has to be 1 of the 2 because it’s not reason and it’s not preponderance of the evidence based.
Oddly too is the DIABOLICAL HATRED that our enemies the jews have against whites AND all Christians whether white or not, and their loathing of Christ etc.(and also folks like you who loath/mock Christians and Christianity while yall worship primordial muck as yalls creator lol !!!).
Doesn’t this jewish loathing in and of itself smack of something unusual in the evolutionary scheme now that the jews control and/or are worshipped by most supposed Christians ??
You like to read, so I assume you’ve heard of and probably read Thomas Paine.
Have you heard of or read Eliat Bourdinot ?? I’ll bet you haven’t.
He was an American Founder who wrote a book length rebuttal to Paines age of reason called “Age of Revelation”.
Yet it’s NEVER mentioned in any history study program at any university. Ask some masters and PHD history majors and you will see that nobody has ever heard of him. Why ??
2 American Founders writing a book length debate(plus more) on the value(or lack thereof) of organized Christianity, which debate was held in the public sphere and yet this debate is not held up in EVERY school in America as an example of what American free speech and open debate is all about ??
Where is a better example in our history ?!?!
Isn’t this a bit strange ??
Isn’t it especially strange when Ben Franklin told Paine scathingly to BURN his manuscript before he released it, and that Patrick Henry as well as Sam and John Adams all castigated Paine too ??(as well as many others).
Yet Bourdinot is TOTALLY erased from history when all the other Founders were on his side ??
What do these jews have to hide ?? And why ??
What danger is Bourdinot and all the other Founders defense of Christianity ??
It’s clear that jews can coopt the Christian churches and control them so why must they hate and eradicate them STILL TODAY ??
It was Romans that destroyed the jewish temple and put tens of thousands of jews to death, Christians didn’t do it.
Do they parade the planet hating on Italians or empire ?? No.
So why Christ and Christians ??
Since we are on the topic of common sense(paines book and the concept of common sense itself) and preponderance of the evidence, let me ask you this.
The ancient Hebrew people of the Bible resemble what people if we look at their vacillating behavior and wavering allegiance to their God etc ?? How about their nation splitting in 2 ??
Do they resemble the people we call jews today ?? Or the Israel we see today ??
Or do whites and white nations, and even white America specifically, resemble the people of the old testament ??
America split in 2 just like ancient Israel and our white nations constantly squabble and fight and split all through recorded history as well as we OBVIOUSLY waffle ourselves on our loyalty to our religion as you and I are debating our God right now.
Do jews and Israel demonstrate this behavior or are they one nation indivisible ?? Aren’t they 1 giant global organism that always follows the same hive path with the same allegiances internally ??
Was king herod of Christ’s time a Hebrew ??
He was a Jewish convert that was an edomite. What did he do ?? He massacred all children in his adopted nation under 2 years old when he heard a king was being born and he thought such a birth was a threat to him.
Which group today pushes the murder of the unborn of their adopted white nations ??
Is killing His own nations children what the hebrew Jesus king taught and did ??
Or is this what the edomite king herod taught and did ??
Where are our powers of reason on the creation of life and on the identity of the modern so-called jews ?
Isn’t it odd that the Bible prophesies so clearly ?? That it even prophesied that at a much later time that those who claimed to be jews wouldn’t be ??
That a mark would be required or we couldn’t buy or sell ??
Why are the elite and the jews so diligent in their promotion of everything satanic today ??
Why is that necessary if there is no satan ??
Why did EVERY American Founder believe in a Sovereign God that created the universe and life and man ??
Was their combined genius not up to being the equal of Charles Darwin ?? Lol !!! I can’t help but burst out laughing to even suggest something so literally God damned stupid.
You don’t think Franklin, Jefferson, Madison, Sam and John Adam’s, John Jay, Patrick Henry, et al couldn’t notice that apes and monkies resembled humans etc etc ??
Yet their intellect and sincere fact based convictions NEVER ALLOWED FOR A MOMENT for them to suggest that life spontaneously erupted from nothing or that life came from muck.
Why ?? Jefferson said that the order of the universe is proof of a Creator God, so the meaningless few similarities humans have to apes and that all creatures share with each other is unremarkable.
The remarkable thing is that earth is an earth made for men, and that men are humans and not apes, and all the order that it takes for any of that to happen is the crystal clear signature of a creative intelligence that we call God.
This is what we would call common sense, no ? Even Thomas Paine believed in God by the way.
Even dr Francis Collins, who has made a fool of himself the last couple years on this Corona crap etc, became a Christian(at 1 point anyway) because of science and he explains in his book “the language of God” that the numerical impossibility of the gnome happening by accident is completely impossible by any theoretical possibilities theory.
I’ve put it like this. Who on the earth would believe that a roulette dealer got his first job spinning the wheel when he turned 18 and when he retired at the age of 62 he had NEVER spun anything but black ??
Nobody would believe it. Nobody would believe this was a fair game if this happened for an entire day and it NEVER HAS.
It NEVER will.
Not for a day, not for a week or a month, and not for decades.
It’s simply IMPOSSIBLE because of the laws of nature and of nature’s God.
Probability fantasies hit a brick wall called reality.
This fanciful “science” of fake toothfairy theory is what nikola tesla made fun of.
I personally approach ALL subjects based on a preponderance of the evidence method. I treat them all the same. I weigh the evidence based on what man has experienced in our time on this earth and the combined wisdom and skill of our ancestors coupled to our own knowledge when the honest portions of history and the present can be ascertained.
And as I said at the onset I am quite puzzled when seemingly smart and honest men totally abandon this method based on emotional prejudices just the same as all of the duped leftist puppets of the jews do based on their personal emotional pet peeves.
It’s quite late in illinois where I am presently and this is long enough. I welcome your thoughtful reply and you may feel free to post this minus my email but you may also feel free to forward me any intelligent fact based comments from others.
As an end note, eliat bourdinots book can be found online for free.
Best regards in truth and liberty,
“Jeff: Great opening line there, bro! Yeah, I’m a wop, third generation. Grandparents emigrated to the U.S. from southern Italy between 1910 and 1920. Parents, aunts, uncles assimilated no problem. My ex-wife was old stock American (English/Dutch/French). I love pizza and cappuccino, but feel no special connection to Italy over any other European country. Just in case you or anybody else is wondering.”
That was not my actual reply to Jeff later that day. Instead, I thanked him for his letter, and said I’d post and comment on it when I get the chance. In turn, he thanked me and added that he’d been tired when he wrote his piece, hadn’t proofed it and later noticed typos, and would clean it up and resubmit it. He never did, but it doesn’t matter. After giving it some thought, my only comment is that I agree with a few things he wrote, but nearly all of it is incoherent. I’ll leave it at that.
A few weeks earlier I had received a typed letter in the mail from an 85-year-old woman who had read my book. She seemed like a nice person. Toward the end she wrote:
I was really disappointed when I read that you are an evolutionist vs a creationist. I hope I don’t offend you with this but I am a born-again, spirit-filled Christian who is an intercessor prayer warrior. I also have a M.S. in biblical theology. I believe I was created in the image and likeness of the Creator, my Heavenly Father and not from some monkey…. And I believe every Word of God in the bible…. I will never believe a man of your intellect could ever come from an ape. My prayer is that God would give me the privilege of helping you change your mind some day.
She gave me her email address and telephone number. I emailed a brief, polite explanation of how I came to believe what I believe, and never heard from her. Around this time another person, commenting on a travel story that had been posted on a different website, was outraged by my assertion that Christianity was, historically speaking, a more violent religion than Islam. Clearly, it’s a sensitive topic, more sensitive than I had imagined. I concluded that there’s nothing gained by offending people just to indulge myself, as I did twice on my blog. From now on, I’m going to steer clear of Christianity as much as possible. In this essay I’m not going to mock anyone’s beliefs, as I previously did. Nevertheless, if you’re a committed Christian you’re likely to become pretty upset, so I’d advise you not to read any further.
When I was much younger, I had quite a roller coaster ride with Christianity. In many ways it paralleled that of William Gayley Simpson, as he recounts it in Which Way Western Man?, the greatest book I’ve ever read. It’s a very long book, written over the course of a very long life – an autobiographical account of a never-ending quest for truth and knowledge. Most of the first hundred pages deals with his faith and struggles with Christianity, which ended in spiritual desolation, and as with me, was finally cured by a good dose of Nietzsche. There were some differences, though. He really tried to emulate the life of Jesus, which I never did. He was more committed, and for a much longer time than I was, almost until he was forty. His distress was more drawn out, whereas mine was comparatively brief but much more acute. Nevertheless, I was very much taken by his account, in the same sense that a man who has been in combat would be drawn to a book written by another soldier who fought on the same battlefield. This is an intensely personal story that I’ve never told anyone, though I always felt it should be told. I’m leaving out quite a few details in order to keep it to a reasonable length. I’ll start from the beginning.
* * *
I had an ordinary Roman Catholic upbringing. My parents were not devout, never read the bible which sat on the shelf as an ornament, never talked about Jesus or God, but they did believe in instilling some religion in their children. My town, Williston Park, in western Long Island, was about 80% Catholic and St. Aidan’s Church the main social center. Beginning in the first grade, all the Catholic kids in my elementary school would walk the hundred yards to St. Aidan’s school every Thursday afternoon, for an hour of what was called religious instruction, our version of Sunday school. We never studied the bible, but instead the catechism, a long compendium of the essential teachings of the Catholic Church in question-and-answer format. I made my first communion at age seven, confirmation at eleven, and occasionally went to confession on Saturday afternoons. My parents made me go to Sunday mass with them, which bored me to death, until I began rebelling and refusing to go when I was about fourteen. They stopped going too, a year or two after that, though my mother found religion late in life.
Despite boycotting Sunday services, I’d pretty much absorbed the basic teachings of the Church, specifically the divinity of Jesus and the promise of an afterlife in some vague sense. Yet even when I was quite young, some things made no sense to me and I inwardly questioned them. (And incidentally, until five minutes ago, I was completely ignorant of the differences between Catholicism and Protestantism, other than the latter’s rejection of the Pope and celibacy, and for the first time I also just read about the slight differences between the various Protestant sects.) For example, I remember learning that everyone who had lived before Jesus was stuck with original sin and could not go to Heaven, but instead would spend eternity in a neutral zone called Limbo – and how unfair it seemed of God to do that. We were also taught about venial and mortal sins. If you died without having confessed a venial sin, you would atone by serving time in an unpleasant place called Purgatory before ascending to Heaven, but if you hadn’t confessed a mortal sin before death, you would burn in Hell for eternity. Murder and other grave crimes were considered mortal sins, but so was inexcusably missing Sunday mass. (I thought for sure the Church would’ve scrapped such a nutty ruling by now, but I just looked into it and it seems they haven’t budged on this.)
As I grew older, nothing about my religion preoccupied me, though it did give me a spiritual foundation of sorts. This had nothing to do with my decision to attend Chaminade, an all-boys Catholic high school near my home. It was its reputation as the most elite academic school on Long Island that appealed to me. And quite honestly, even though we had religion class all four years, they never laid Catholicism on too thick. In fact, as a freshman in 1967, the height of the San Francisco hippie scene, our “with it” religion teacher, Brother Genovese, once said that the flower children were preaching the same thing Jesus had preached, implying that there was nothing divine about Jesus but that he was merely a hippie in his day. That remark disturbed me; it shook my foundation.
Little by little I was becoming more skeptical of the tenets of Christianity, probably because my classmates who took it the most seriously were also the biggest nerds. Then, in my junior year, a close friend, who was an only child, was killed in a car accident. I knew his parents well. They were good people who had already been through tragedy, and his mother was confined to a wheelchair, slowly dying of spinal cancer. This event made me hate the idea of a just and merciful God, hate the belief that prayers were answered, hate the stupidity of everyone who took this garbage seriously, and everything else about Christianity. I became a militant atheist overnight and stayed that way for three years.
In late 1972, after dropping out of college and pumping gas for five months, I got a job working in the mail room at Geico, which then was a small but growing insurance company. One of my tasks was going around the office twice a day with a cart collecting outgoing mail from the underwriters and putting it through the postage machine. There were only about fifty employees back then and I enjoyed chatting with some of them as I made my rounds. One guy, a little older than me, had on his desk a photograph of Guru Maharaji, a chubby 15-year-old kid from India whose real name (I found out later) was Prem Rawat. Curious about this guru and his Divine Light Mission, I asked Dave a few questions, which led to us having a few talks after work. He explained that in every historical period there’s a living spiritual master. Two thousand years ago it was Jesus, before him it was Buddha, and now it was Maharaji. He suggested I join him and other followers the next time they met at the ashram, or temple, in Long Beach. I cringe now for having fallen for this, but at the time I knew very little, believed less, and subconsciously there was a spiritual void in my life that needed to be filled, so I decided to go with Dave to the ashram. There were about thirty people there, and at some point everyone was sitting on the floor singing and I felt very connected with everyone. A feeling of euphoria came over me like nothing else I’d ever felt. “Blissed out” was how my co-worker put it. I was hooked, even though I didn’t fully embrace the idea of devoting myself to this so-called living master.
A few weeks later I went with Dave to a bigger ashram in Manhattan, anticipating that same spiritual bliss, but this time there was nothing, just a long, boring lecture by an Indian man about the holiness of Guru Maharaji, how he’s going to bring about peace on earth, and so forth. I’m at a loss to explain why, but as I drove home later I felt despondent. Thus began a cycle of depression and anxiety that would get worse and worse over the next seven months. I talked about this with a few people at work and they told me to stay away from Dave and all this guru business. One of them warned me that I was getting sucked into something evil, and offered to put me in touch with an acquaintance who ran a Christian fellowship. I called and met this man, was impressed by him, and accepted his invitation to join his group in one of their weekly prayer meetings in a private home. These people made me feel welcome, they were all nice to me, but I vaguely felt that I didn’t fit in. They would pray out loud, often moaning “Praise you, Jesus,” someone would say something like “The Lord just gave me a verse,” and we’d all turn our bibles to that verse and occasionally a person would start speaking in tongues. I was unsure about so many things, but there was something artificial about all this, and these people were too unctuous for me. I met with them again once or twice and that was the end of it.
In the meantime I’d been “promoted” to desk work as an underwriter at Geico, the most mind-numbing job I’ve ever had, and the bouts of depression and anxiety continued, as did panic attacks – a sudden, overwhelming sense of fear, and a feeling that I was losing control of myself, made worse by the fact that there were so many people around me. As I write these words, almost fifty years later, I find it impossible to relive what I was going through, but it was very real at the time. I reached the point where I had to quit because I was too nervous to be around people, aside from the fact that I couldn’t stand this dead-end job. A few weeks later I found menial work with a house builder as part of a landscaping and construction clean-up crew. Doing physical work with a bunch of likable screwballs was an improvement over Geico, but I could not climb out of the rut of depression.
Still clinging to Christianity, I paid a visit to Father Keenan at Chaminade, who had taught religion in my senior year and whom I had liked. He remembered me, and we had a nice chat, but nothing came of it. I then looked in the phone book for a professional counselor with a Christian affiliation, and came across a psychotherapist who worked for a local Catholic charity. She was a pleasant, well-educated lady and recommended that I read William James’s The Varieties of Religious Experience, published in 1902, as well as St. Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologica, a multi-volume work that summarized all human knowledge in the thirteenth century, upon which most Catholic doctrine is still based. She said that the latter work gave her comfort in difficult times, helping her understand the meaning of our existence, something I was desperately searching for. As it happened, Varieties and Summa were both in the Williston Park public library. William James was an American Christian theologian, but his book was more about the psychological than the doctrinal aspects of religious belief. I found some solace in it, and in particular I related to his discussion of a condition called anhedonia, which is an inability to feel pleasure, which certainly applied to me. Summa was an eye-opener as well, in that I discovered that there was some real substance to Catholicism, not just vegetating during mass and learning the catechism by rote. Writing in the Middle Ages, St. Thomas synthesized the teachings of the Church with those of Aristotle, whom he considered the greatest philosopher. Although I read only a few hundred pages, I found much of it intellectually stimulating, and even now I can appreciate what a great mind this man had, writing at a time when knowledge of our planet and the universe was so limited. At the same time, Summa was too rigid and systematic, as if the author thought he had all the answers, which he obviously didn’t. And it gave me no relief from my depression and anxiety.
I quit my job and sank deeper into the abyss of depression. Severe depression is to the mind what unbearable physical pain is to the body. I could not go on living like this. I was nearly incapacitated, and although there were anti-depressant drugs on the market even back in 1973, my instincts told me that drugs weren’t the answer. There was no let-up to the anxiety and panic attacks. It was an ordeal just waiting in line at the post office or supermarket. One day in July I hit rock bottom, lying in the grass in my backyard and crying. Suicide was the only way out, but it wasn’t in me to take my own life. Somehow I just hung on, going to the library when I could and reading snatches of the modern Christian thinkers we’d studied in high school religion class, like Paul Tillich, Karl Jaspers and Soren Kierkegaard. For some reason I latched on to Kierkegaard, perhaps because he wrote about anxiety and despair, and I identified with his disdain for the unthinking, church-attending masses in his nineteenth century Denmark. I also was taken by his personal struggle in arriving at the belief that faith in Jesus Christ is the ultimate meaning in life. Somewhere he wrote that he knew this was absurd, but he believed it precisely for that reason. I didn’t ask the logical question at the time, but I’ll ask it now: how much sense does that make?
By late August I felt that the worst of my crisis was behind me. Having no real direction I decided at the last minute to return to college, this time at Adelphi University, an easy commute from home. From this point on, religion was a personal thing – no more groups for me – but I wore a crucifix around my neck to tell the world I was a Christian. I wasn’t out of the woods with depression and anxiety, but I could feel myself improving, and I even started experiencing frequent muscle twitchings, as if my body, in connection with my mind, was being “unlocked.” I continued to read philosophy and religion in the Kierkegaard mold, but I also came upon Baruch Spinoza, a seventeenth century Dutch Jew who had been expelled from his synagogue for heresy. I liked his elevation of Reason and his serene interpretation of God, as spelled out in his book Ethics. For a while he was a strong influence on me, as I embraced both his pantheism and Kierkegaard’s faith in Jesus.
I dropped out of college again for more than a year, improving the whole time, before making a final decision to stick it out and earn my diploma, even though I saw no point in it. During that time my Christian beliefs slowly dried up, though not entirely. Returning to Adelphi, I decided to major in history and philosophy, and took classes with two professors in the philosophy department, Thomas Knight and Robert Pasotti, who both influenced my thinking more than any teacher I’d ever had since the first grade, though in different ways. Neither were Christians, but while Knight was openly hostile to Christianity, Pasotti was more tolerant of it. Both men knew their subject well – they could talk about all the great philosophers going back to the ancient Greeks – and both were proponents of Nietzsche who, of course, dropped an atom bomb on Christianity, calling it the greatest disaster in history. I started reading Nietzsche. While two years earlier his writing would’ve traumatized me, now it was almost liberating. Christianity was losing its grip on me. But it wasn’t The Antichrist or The Will to Power that dealt the final blow, it was Robert Ardrey’s African Genesis (subtitled “A Personal Investigation into the Animal Origins and Nature of Man”), published in 1961. In one of our many engaging conversations in the rathskeller at Adelphi, Bob Pasotti told me that I really should read this book.
I got around to it that summer of 1976. I remember taking my younger sister, who wasn’t yet old enough to drive, to Jones Beach, and while she spent most of her time in the ocean, I spent most of mine in a deck chair with African Genesis. While, as noted above, William G. Simpson’s Which Way Western Man? is the greatest book I’ve ever read, no book has ever had such an immediate, profound impact on me as did African Genesis (which Simpson discusses in his own work). For the first time I saw the “big picture” of all animal life, and on a sublime level, our purpose in life. For the first time I understood all aspects of human behavior, and how we might be an evolutionary failure, no more significant in the cosmic scheme of things than any other animal living or extinct. I didn’t read the whole book in that one sitting, but I read enough to instantly cut my last flimsy strings to Christianity. African Genesis was fascinating, horrifying and inspiring all at the same time. I was shell-shocked as I folded my chair and made the long, slow walk to the parking lot with my sister. It didn’t matter if Ardrey was wrong on a few minor points, as I now know he was; this book opened up a whole new vista of knowledge and understanding of how the world works. I still had a great deal to learn, but in a sense, everything has been built on the foundation laid by this wonderful book.
That was 46 years ago and I’ve never looked back. I can’t say for sure that the extreme despair that consumed me at age 19 was connected with Christianity, but I’ll always believe that it was. It’s my nature to be endlessly inquisitive, to yearn to know as much as I can. To have this false reality pumped into me, first as a child, and worse, as a young man, likely produced the internal clashes that in turn led to the intense suffering I went through. And since being detoxified of all Christian falsehoods, I’ve had permanent peace of mind, spiritually speaking. And incidentally, I’ve observed that, everything else being equal, children not indoctrinated with Christianity, or any other established religion for that matter, tend to be less neurotic as they grow older.
Just think of all the bloody fanaticism Christianity has inspired over the centuries – the wars between Catholics and Protestants, the burning alive of thousands of heretics, the brutal conversion of primitive people by Europeans filled with holy zeal. Just think of all the flaming hypocrites who represented themselves as Christian leaders, and the shallowness and dishonesty of all those who ignore or explain away the endless contradictions, physical impossibilities, and exhortations to revenge and mass murder found in the Old Testament. Really, think about it: telling children they’re going to burn in Hell forever if they miss Sunday mass and die without confessing it. What does that do to a little kid’s head? And no one is going to tell me that that’s just the nonsense of Catholicism, that the Protestant sects are more rational. What about the Baptists, Evangelicals, and other offshoots that preach that Jews are God’s Chosen people and that anyone who messes with the holy state of Israel is going to face God’s wrath? What about these jokers who have been telling us forever about the Second Coming of Christ, as prophesied in the book of Daniel or Revelation or whatever, and when it never happens they just keep pushing the date up? (Hal Lindsey’s The Late, Great Planet Earth, the most famous of this genre, sold around 35 million copies and was translated into 50 languages between 1970 and 2000.) All these illusions have led to the spiritual wasteland we find ourselves in today. I confirmed this for myself on Easter Sunday 2019 when, out of curiosity, I attended services at a Methodist church near my home, which incidentally has a permanent rainbow LGBT flag draped by the entrance door. I hadn’t been to a regular Sunday mass in fifty years. A woman minister delivered the sermon. I have never sat through such empty babble in my life. There was no social gospel to speak of, nor was the name of Jesus once mentioned. It was just a tedious, meaningless monologue about something or other. I walked out after twenty minutes. How people can endure this once a week for most of their lives is beyond me.
I admit that I still have a small, sentimental attachment to the trappings of Christianity, especially to the solemn ceremonies around Christmas and Easter. I’ve stood inside many of Europe’s Gothic cathedrals, some of which took more than 300 years to build, gazing in awe at the beauty all around me, and reflecting on the lifelong labor and devotion that went into their construction. And I think we all readily acknowledge that some of Western man’s most beautiful art and music has a purely Christian theme. Nevertheless, this religion is alien to Nature and to our deepest strivings, but like a huge boulder in the middle of the road, blocking our upward spiritual path, it will take a herculean effort over a long period of time to get it out of the way.
As I wrote at the beginning, I learned that nothing is accomplished by offending visitors to this site who are Christians, whether they worship as a group or hold a private faith. I just might delete the page entitled “Jesus Ain’t Gonna Help You” from this site. One’s spiritual beliefs, especially when they’re grounded in delusion, are a raw nerve that shouldn’t be poked and prodded. Perhaps it’s even true that the great majority of people, unthinking by nature, need some kind of religion, and one based on false premises is better than nothing at all, in order to stabilize their own lives as well as the society they belong to. Nevertheless, I believe that for Western man to survive and thrive, he must wean himself off Christianity. That’s a tough assignment that I’m afraid is going to take centuries. And for those who can think independently, this religion, in whatever sect or form or nuance, is poison. Since purging it from my system, I’ve found the works of Ben Klassen and Revilo Oliver, both stalwart racial nationalists, to be the most enlightening. One succinct passage from Oliver has always stood out. He called Christianity “a bubonic plague of the mind.” After what I went through, I fully agree.
* * *
Source: End the Shots