As promised, here is the story that my grandmother fed me with countless time, about the time she met Jesus and the angels. I will tell it with as many details I can remember, I will try not to let too many things get lost in translation.
She was a child, among many siblings. One day one of her brothers had eaten the cream that their mother had prepared for dessert and blamed it on my grandmother and she first finds out that she has been wrongly accused right after supper when her mother tells everyone “I’m sorry, but none of us can have any dessert tonight because Mary (not her real name) has eaten all the cream”. She received many angry looks from all apart from the guilty party who had a smug look on his face.
She felt helpless, it would have been her word against his but now that her mother had been convinced and now voiced it out in front of the whole family they were all convinced she was guilty. She went to bed and cried.
That night she heard a voice call her name. She looked around and all her siblings were sleeping so she tried to go back to sleep herself when after a while she heard the voice again and, just like before, all her siblings seemed asleep. Wondering if someone was pretending to sleep to mess with her she tried to ignore it but the third time (always in threes, huh?) she heard it, it also added “come out”, so she followed the voice and left the house. Out in the street she saw a beautiful man stand with his arms spread out in a welcoming gesture, and although there were no light sources he was well lit in the middle of the night.
She realized this man was Jesus. He showed her to a rope-ladder and invited her to climb it and she did, all the way to heaven.
And she saw the most glorious city of gold full of beautiful angels, who were all welcome and they all wanted to play with her, so they played all-through the night until she was too tired to continue. The angels assured her that the next time they would meet, she would not have to worry about ever feeling tired again. And they carried her back down to her house.
I remember her telling me this when I was very young and even when my religious doubt was just a spark in the back of my head I had trouble swallowing it. I guess I figured it was the kind of thing you tell a child to convey a greater meaning rather than a telling of a true event. However, she kept telling me the story every now and then, insisting that it is true, and her voice goes high as she tries to describe the wonder and glory of the event that occurred to her… and she still does! I am thirty years old now and she still tells me the story as if expecting me to take it as literal truth. It is the cringiest thing in the world, I don’t want to call her a liar and I don’t think she is one.. It seems like she really believes this but that forces me to think that she is completely batshit insane! One cannot even blame old age, because she has been telling the story for at least 25 years!
And even if I go into my most agnostic mode and try to accept that these things can against all expectations be true and depend on an element of physics we have not yet discovered there is one part of the story that just ruins even that outlook.
A rope-ladder to heaven.
Seriously. A rope ladder.
How high up is Heaven? Did she climb in her pajamas? Wouldn’t that be cold? And what kind of prick is God if he can let people fly up or send an angel to carry her but instead he drops a rope-ladder for a child to climb?
There is no way out of this. She is either a liar or insane. Or I am insane and the bible is true… I seriously doubt that third option.
As promised, I will now conclude my back-story, I hope you find it a good read as it concerns something about atheism that I think is a matter of concern. Let’s get started;
So I was no longer a christian and no other mainstream religion had come anywhere near convincing me so I thought ‘I guess I am an atheist’… until I met some other atheists. I want to make something clear here, I do not believe that my early atheist friends represent atheism in general, but at the time, for me, they did. I had no other points of reference. You see the atheists around me at the time were not what I would call reasonable, they put no thought into existence and what was worse, went further than simply not believing in God but stated that the non existence of God or anything that can be referred to as supernatural was an absolute fact. This troubled me a great deal because I simply did not see how anyone could know. What happens after death? I don’t know, that is the honest answer. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care if you are a theist or an atheist, you do not know and you cannot tell me what happens after death. Fine, for the most part, atheists tend to have a more informed view f the matter and, indeed, there is no reason to believe in anything as nothing has ever been indicated, but we do not know enough about every element of consciousnesses for us to make any absolute claims. Sure, I figured they were probably right, but the claim to absolute certainty made it impossible for me to relate to them. I simply could not let these people represent my beliefs. This is when I found out about the word Agnostic. It seemed to mean “someone who does not know” and it fit me like a glove. I can have expectations and ideas about existence, but as far as making any absolute claims… well I simply refused to do so, or support anyone that did.
So now I had a word to describe me. Sure in some respects it was a silly title, it could be applied anywhere to make me look like a totally spaced out headcase. Is there a God? I don’t know, never seen one. Are there other galaxies… I think so.. but.. I’ve only ever seen pictures and those can be forged so.. I guess I don’t know… Does south America exist? Darn… do I, as an agnostic have to say I don’t know here as well? Sure, I cannot see any absolute proof that would be impossible to forge that such a content exists but it seems far more likely that it does. All these things aside, I was happy to be an agnostic and I happily argued against the boneheaded atheists that all claimed certainty where they simply didn’t have it. Here was my mistake. I equated the word Atheist with someone who claims absolute knowledge about existence and, even though some of those do exist, they do not represent atheism as a whole. I spent over 10 years battling both theists and atheists alike, not beloning to either party until one day I started watching the Texas based show The Atheist Experience (see links) where one of the hosts, Matt Dillahunty was explaining how to use the term Agnostic in a productive way. Agnostic just means “no knowledge” and one can be an agnostic atheist as well as an agnostic theist. Here is the little bit of definition that I had been missing.
Being Atheist just means you do not believe in any gods, it does not mean you have to believe in the lack of them.
There is a very important differance between not believeing in God and believeing there is no God. And that is where I am today. Agnostic Atheist, that is me. Is it possible that we may discover something about the universe that proves that some kind of god exists? I guess so, but until we do I see no good reason to expect it.
I hope you enjoyed getting to know this side of me, I am still interested in your own story, please, do tell, if not in a comment then in the form of my Contact Me section. Today I will leave you with the clip that finally made me join the Atheist community.