First posted: October 24, 2013.
I was brought up a Catholic and made the decision to stop being one when I was 15. I made a point of telling my parents on a Sunday morning. This was not to get out of going to Mass, it was the result of being taught by blinkered men of faith throughout my education. They were undoubtedly sincere, but the blinkers remained and faith was unquestioned.
When I or some other stroppy fourth former did pose a question, the answer was never satisfactory. How come only Christians who had been baptised were to be allowed into the Kingdom of Heaven? What about the Hindus, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs and Zarathustrians? Were they to be condemned through an accident of birth, even though they never had the chance of baptism or heard the word of God?
Yes, was the answer. Poor sods get born into third world poverty and don't even have heaven to look forward to. Of course, they have their own version of heaven but that's just fallacy and make believe.
Other religions were wrong and the Catholic religion was right. Full stop. No room for argument. This was 60 years ago, so maybe church philosophy has changed. It seemed acceptable to be scornful of the way others worshipped as long as we accepted the body of Christ in a wafer, his blood in wine and eternal damnation to die in mortal sin. I used to come out of confession as a 12-year-old and hope a bus would kill me in a state of grace on the way home before I had the chance to sin again.
All this based on a religion started by a Jew in the Middle East 2000 years ago. If Emperor Constantine hadn't accepted Christianity in Ancient Rome in the third century, Jupiter could still be a major god in the western world and we could be paying respects to Mars, Venus, Apollo and Diana. I continue to pay homage to Bacchus three or four times a week.
Despite my disillusionment with religion, I might point out that my experience of men of the cloth has largely been positive. There have been many stories of paedophile priests in recent years but I never heard any allegations about them during my childhood and schooldays – I was taught by Jesuits and De La Salle brothers.
The parish priests were invariably kind, good natured, occasionally fond of whisky (or maybe that was just the Irish ones), and the teaching brethren were strict and believed in corporal punishment. Given the chance, a couple might have enjoyed capital punishment as well.
I remember a young priest at St Hugh of Lincoln in Timperley with particular admiration. A gang of a dozen Teddy Boys appeared at the front door of the youth club wanting to punch out the lights of me and two friends. The priest told us to sneak out of the back door and do a runner while he took off his thick leather belt, wrapped it around his right fist and went out the front door to smite the enemy.
We escaped and they dispersed.
The other priest who sticks in the memory, performed the baptism of our first child Siobhan. We used to drink with him and he drove a red Spitfire as I did. A few weeks after the service he ran away with a choir girl (who was over the age of consent).
I became an atheist at 25, later tempered to agnostic, and then reverted to atheism full time. In recent years I seem to have a season ticket for the local crematorium as friends, relations and colleagues die and each time I reflect on the here and now and thereafter and nothing has led me to change my mind.
However, I will not mind, when my time comes, if anyone of any religion says a prayer to their god on my behalf – just in case.
I was brought up a Catholic and made the decision to stop being one when I was 15. I made a point of telling my parents on a Sunday morning. This was not to get out of going to Mass, it was the result of being taught by blinkered men of faith throughout my education. They were undoubtedly sincere, but the blinkers remained and faith was unquestioned.
When I or some other stroppy fourth former did pose a question, the answer was never satisfactory. How come only Christians who had been baptised were to be allowed into the Kingdom of Heaven? What about the Hindus, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs and Zarathustrians? Were they to be condemned through an accident of birth, even though they never had the chance of baptism or heard the word of God?
Yes, was the answer. Poor sods get born into third world poverty and don't even have heaven to look forward to. Of course, they have their own version of heaven but that's just fallacy and make believe.
Other religions were wrong and the Catholic religion was right. Full stop. No room for argument. This was 60 years ago, so maybe church philosophy has changed. It seemed acceptable to be scornful of the way others worshipped as long as we accepted the body of Christ in a wafer, his blood in wine and eternal damnation to die in mortal sin. I used to come out of confession as a 12-year-old and hope a bus would kill me in a state of grace on the way home before I had the chance to sin again.
All this based on a religion started by a Jew in the Middle East 2000 years ago. If Emperor Constantine hadn't accepted Christianity in Ancient Rome in the third century, Jupiter could still be a major god in the western world and we could be paying respects to Mars, Venus, Apollo and Diana. I continue to pay homage to Bacchus three or four times a week.
Despite my disillusionment with religion, I might point out that my experience of men of the cloth has largely been positive. There have been many stories of paedophile priests in recent years but I never heard any allegations about them during my childhood and schooldays – I was taught by Jesuits and De La Salle brothers.
The parish priests were invariably kind, good natured, occasionally fond of whisky (or maybe that was just the Irish ones), and the teaching brethren were strict and believed in corporal punishment. Given the chance, a couple might have enjoyed capital punishment as well.
I remember a young priest at St Hugh of Lincoln in Timperley with particular admiration. A gang of a dozen Teddy Boys appeared at the front door of the youth club wanting to punch out the lights of me and two friends. The priest told us to sneak out of the back door and do a runner while he took off his thick leather belt, wrapped it around his right fist and went out the front door to smite the enemy.
We escaped and they dispersed.
The other priest who sticks in the memory, performed the baptism of our first child Siobhan. We used to drink with him and he drove a red Spitfire as I did. A few weeks after the service he ran away with a choir girl (who was over the age of consent).
I became an atheist at 25, later tempered to agnostic, and then reverted to atheism full time. In recent years I seem to have a season ticket for the local crematorium as friends, relations and colleagues die and each time I reflect on the here and now and thereafter and nothing has led me to change my mind.
However, I will not mind, when my time comes, if anyone of any religion says a prayer to their god on my behalf – just in case.
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