A Thought On Religion: Part 1

Before I continue there are a few things I need to tell you. I absolutely believe in God. I have a less than favorable attitude towards any, and all, organized religions. I have tempered my feelings towards the church over the years and will explain how, and why, in future posts. The bottom line, however, is that some of you will never get there. What you are about to read was written years ago whilst in the midst of...oh lets call it a journey of self discovery. There were very few answers to the myriad of questions bombarding my mind at that time. So I began to read. Day and night I poured through volumes of religious texts, history books, and classic literature. I read everything I could possibly get my hands on, and the more I read, the angrier I became. Even to this day, the reasons for my anger are very hard to explain. Suffice it to say that some of what had brought me to my boiling point began to leak into my writings. The following excerpts are from that time. I am putting them here in the hopes that I can finally put a clear cut narration to the evolution of my feelings about organized religion. I must say, however, if you are either easily offended, or cannot handle any opinion contrary to the beliefs which you hold dear, you should not, under any circumstance read any further... God did not create right and wrong, he created all!

The only existence of good and evil exists within the perception of the human mind. This is not a new thought, but it is a truth. We--since the begining of thought--have raped God's right to be perfect. We take our own imperfections and attribute them to the one thing that ever was perfect. We are sad in our inability to accept responsibility. We are desperate in our attempt to blame all but ourselves. You call Chtist, the Son of God, the Maker, and then saqy that he needed to die to abolish our sins. You call God the all-perfect creator of the universe and then imply that somehow--amidst all his perfection--half of everything went wrong. You are week and dyslexic in the face of your own God. How dare you ascribe anything imperfect to the architect of all you know. humaniy now begins to see your will to dominate. No force on this earth harvests more innocence, nor garners mor evil. The end game draws near and your breath draws nigh. The church will fall soon of its own accord. Do not mourn yourself--you had more time on this earth than was welomced by God. You played the game well. Many people--to this day--swear by you. They model their lives after your ideal of perfection, and yet failure is their only option. But alas--the fairy tale will end--you will leave nothing but devastation, and hope, in your wake...