My Big Religious Day

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

I spent my lunch break today being interviewed, via telephone, on the Jesse Lee Peterson Radio Show. This is a very conservative talk show, with major markets in the Deep South. Peterson advocates for man’s rights (and I agree, more people should champion them)…at the expense of gender equality (here I disagree, obviously). My essay, “Losing My Head,” appeared online at Patheos recently, and evidently the show’s producers read it and thought I would make an intriguing guest.

Peterson was quite amazed that I don’t believe in gods. He asked me to clarify if I don’t believe in God, or if I don’t believe there is a god. I had to pause to consider the subtle difference here, but then concluded both statements were correct. He asked about my background as a Jehovah’s Witness, and I mentioned the stress and pressure of being a man in that religion. I figured that would appeal to his listeners. Peterson seemed to conclude from this that I left the religion due to the pressure. This, of course, isn’t true. I left the religion, not because of the stress, but because it isn’t true.

He then asked if atheists do believe in things, since they believe there is no god. I told him that many god-believers try to catch atheists on this, as if to say, “see, you do believe in something!” but that this is silly, because the word “atheist” simply implies the person does not believe in god. I compared it to belief in Santa. Non-belief in Santa is, I guess, a belief. But so what?

Peterson asked more about me abdicating my headship (as I discuss in my essay), and he seemed to feel that I stopped being the head of my house because I didn’t like the pressure. Yeah…I agreed with him…I suppose that’s part of it. But it was also stupid. He tried to uncover reasons why I didn’t want to be the head of my wife: Was my father a poor head? Did he set a bad example? Is my wife like my mom? My conclusion pretty mcuh was that my marriage is just fine without me being the head and, barring any evidence that he might present (and he didn’t), I had no reason to change back. At one point, he asked me if I have forgiven my mom for being insane. I laughed for several seconds, first because I’m not sure where he got that idea from, nor why he thought my mom would require forgiveness if, indeed, she was insane. The only remarks I had made about my mom were that she was not as calm and logical as my dad, and that she is nothing like my wife. Both statements are true…and neither one means she’s insane. He also said my wife can’t look up to me if I’m not her head, but I said I disagreed and I said we both look up to each other. He said my marriage has two presidents. I laughed an said, “No, we are co-collaborators.”

The best part of the show, though, is when a thickly-accented Mississippian called in and told me I should believe in God because the Mississippi River doesn’t run out of water. When I explained that the water cycle is very well understood and, even if it wasn’t, that wouldn’t mean the Christian God existed, he went on a five minute rant (separated in two by commercial break) saying that god cursed Adam for not having his wife in subjection and now there are no apple or peach trees growing on the side of the road. The host cut him off and I had no time to respond. Though I don’t think a rebuttal concerning artificial selection would have made any impact on the man. Peterson thanked me for being on his show, made some remark about Nancy Pelosi and the other congresswomen being a sign of the fall from Eden, and said goodbye.

In the afternoon, I headed over to the Church of the Open Door, a heterosexist enclave in the suburb where I work. My company held an all-employee meeting there today. I was first greeted with this enormous phallus (at right). Despite the name of the church, I was forced to get the door for myself when I walked in. One of the speakers referred to the voice-overs on the videos as “the voice of god.” A patient interviewed during one portion of the program looked up and apologized to god for merely thinking about a bad word. I think the word was “fucked,” but I’ll never know for sure. After explaining how the doctors, and our products, had saved his life, he said that someone “up there” must want him to live a little longer. Which, I thought, was a slap in the face to all the people who actually helped him survive. All in all, I was rather disgusted to be in the church, and even more disgruntled at the several references to a deity.

This evening, my wife told me about this story, of a woman who died in a Catholic hospital in Ireland when the staff refused to abort her dying fetus. The woman’s husband works for the same compant I do. Read it, and be disgusted. I hope everyone involved is removed from their positions, though I know this is unlikely given the we-do-no-wrong mentality of hospitals in general, and the overwhelming Catholic stench emanating from Ireland.

All in all, I’d say it was a pretty religious day. It’s fun to be on the outside of such a shared neurosis, but an overdose like this makes me ill.