Good Friday

A student interrupts my lesson (they really have no qualms about doing so) to ask, "Why don't we have Friday off?"

I quickly quip, "Because it's a Good Friday, not a Great Friday."

I was so quick, in fact, I didn't even think of the consequences. In truth, I was just trying to make a play on words, but it was understandably interpreted to be some sort of religious slam, which as I've mentioned previously does not fly. Three people simultaneously respond, "That's not funny!" and many others made assorted judgmental looks and comments. Implying that an event in Jesus's life is anything short of perfect is blasphemy. I've said a lot of bad things while teaching, but I sincerely think this occasion will be the first one that actually prompts parents to angrily call me.

Again, for the most part, these are not good kids. Of the three who objected most vocally, one had just returned from a five day suspension for fighting, and another just fifteen minutes prior had cussed a fellow black student out for being a "faggot" based on the way ey dressed; evidently, collared shirts are a sure sign of homosexuality. (The third student is relatively quiet overall and hands in homework, so ey can preach at me all ey wants, I suppose.)

When I philosophized in college, I used to defend religion as a source of morality. I do not find humanity inherently good enough to be self-motivated to do the right thing. As I saw it, most people need the threat of an eternity in hell to keep them in line. Since teaching, however, I've had to adjust my perspective somewhat. While religion could be a good thing if it aided in molding people into moral individuals, I'm finding that increasingly the values it actually instills are several steps in the wrong direction. Don't get me wrong, I know plenty of religious people who should be proud of the goodness they exude and inspire in others, but I'm dismayed to find that a large portion of people who only adopt certain aspects of their faith seem to favor the hateful parts rather than the compassionate ones. When I recently caught up with my friend Dani, who grew up in the same community that I teach in, she expressed a similar sentiment that she found that many of her friends and neighbors tend to ignore the charitable and accepting virtues of the church and focus on the exclusionary and condemning parts.

It never ceases to amaze me how steadfast these teenagers are in their faith. Throughout my adolescence, questioning my beliefs was an everyday activity. How can I be sure? What proof do I have? If I were raised to be a different religion, would I feel similarly about it? I feel it's not just a coincidence that the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus are fictional characters with religious ties that with age, wisdom, and a better understanding of the world, we all come to cease believing in. These are entities our parents choose/feel compelled to lie to us about because it brings us joy, gives us something to look forward to, and heck, everyone else is doing it. Why then for many does this process of discovery stop at a gift-bearing rabbit and fat man and not gravitate toward spiritual figures as well?

By definition, religion gets a free pass. It is neither to be held accountable for its ideas nor does it need scientific proof to demonstrate its existence. No, faith is faith, it is belief in the unseen and the unproven, an idea we accept and therefore allow. Society and government have largely labeled religion as the one area that's off limits to questioning, for better or worse. While just about everything else, save maybe Wikipedia, is fair game for scrutiny (and rightfully so), what do we as the human race gain from granting religion this exception? Those who believe in ghosts, aliens, and the unseen are deemed crazy, while those who believe in God are our respected community leaders.

I used to see the beauty in religion. In an ordered world, it is attractive to give in to something you cannot prove for the sake of having faith in something. Doing so can be intensely powerful and add meaning to one's life. However, when what could be so beautiful leads to such ugly results, it's time we reconsider our refusal to question.