Supposedly, We're All Going to Hell

You are going to read this article. You will enjoy it to the fullest-or else I'm going to be very angry. In all honesty, it will be the kind of tantrum that will awaken Leviathan from his thousand year slumber, and cause him to emerge from beneath his boiling valley and unto our world. He will open one of his sixteen mouths of destruction, and from it shall roll a million pink tongues of tancrid, acidic drool. From these droplets, your face shall melt and your bones will steam. When you have stopped screaming in agony, the beast will then commence his digestion of your immortal soul. It is within this cavern of morbid terror that you shall finally undo the scroll of your divine punishment-and from your death, atonement.

See, that might not have been the most effective way to persuade anyone to actually continue onward. But then again, fear can persuade people to do just about anything--just watch the news tonight and see what I mean. And we're all pretty much guilty of misusing intimidation to an advantage, if only just to make someone wash the dishes or other tasks of relative minutiae labor. Nobody cares if we're told that we're lazy or irresponsible or even downright stubborn from time to time-unless it gets to a point where it isn't even lighthearted ribbing. This is especially true if it's coming from an institution that over 900,229,000 people attend and obey (at least on some basis.) That would be the Catholic "universal" sect of the world's most popular spiritual faith, Christianity.

According to our good buddy Joey Ratzinger (ne Benedict XVI), this is the best way to go about educating His children: By claiming-and I quote-that "Hell exists and there is eternal punishment for those who sin and do not repent." He also launched into a tirade that the church isn't "talking about eternal damnation enough."

Yes, that is correct: in an era helter-skelter on the brink of nuclear war, and terrorism already having gripped us in a scaly fist, we need more to remind us of what it is like to be afraid. If the institution is truly concerned with the decay of moral fiber in society, as well as the subsequent decline in parish attendance, then they would have embraced change as an inevitability for the greater good; as opposed to whatever apocalyptic charge is the hot topic for the year.

One of the more glaring problems with what's so wrong about the current state ofaffairs is that they never change. Almost two-thousand years later and you would think that there would be at least a few hundred ratifications to doctrine. (Not counting all the "unofficial" theses from the 1500's.) The United States alone has made more amendments and modifications to their Constitution in the span of only about three hundred years of civil independence and it's still holding up fairly stolid after all those renovations. The point of constantly and consistently changing is a need that must be upheld in any basic societal structure; if you get stagnant, you become stale and behind the times. Nobody wants to get dragged through colossal change if it means kicking and screaming all the way to the next enlightenment-but that's how revolution always starts, like it or not. And for the majority of these millennia, the Great Catholic War Machine has steamrolled any attempt at refurbishing its creepy gothic architecture, its creepy death-obsessive homilies, and its creepier clergymen.

I can understand why certain philosophies are still revered even in this vacuum of the information age; and that is because they are timeless and are applicable to nearly everyone. "Man is a political animal," and things of that nature are truer than they ever were. And that was even before most biblical passages were formulated-by means of a divine hand or otherwise human. That fact alone might prove to be a nail in the coffin to any notions that the time period of certain rules cannot prove to be a mitigating factor for its irrelevance. However, you don't have to look at the documentation in strict detail so much as you should observe who it was meant for, and why. If the old days were as bad as they say, Sodom and Gomorrah and all, then it's completely natural that the almighty law was so rigid and unyielding. There wouldn't be any use in prodding the countrymen if it wasn't done with a blade. Of course, now we're not so decadent and morally dense; we don't need the same kind of cattle branding that was so easy and cost-effective for Pope Happycat or whatever their names were.

Now, on another side of this spectrum, it might not be so ridiculous to regard being steadfast as something commendable. Not everything is so lucky to stand the test of time and continue to be so influential; so there has to be something they're doing right-right?

Yes, and before most of the negative pulpit-pounding zealotry broke out of the gates, there was a clear mission to serve the world on the basis of humanitarian peace and the philosophy of widespread forgiveness. There's much to be gained if you have the power to spin the cogs and put a new idea into motion; but deliberately ignoring such a power is borderline irresponsibility. If you really want to inspire the masses, it should be done with compassion and forgiveness more so than telling everyone what to steer clear of, who to hate, and what meats you can't eat. You can't open a jar with a hammer, just as modern transcendence can't be achieved through fear.

More importantly, the institution of Catholicism fails to approach on a human level. Claiming you're part of some invincible society of superheroes isn't going to win you any respect-but if you can admit something along the lines of, "We've messed up in the past, and you've messed up, too-but together, we'll try not to stumble on the cracks as much," there's a connection that can effectively bridge the gap between a difference of "divine authority" and "we're here to help you to help yourselves."

I don't want to flake out by painting a pretty picture, so to go about changing canon we have to get face to face with the real matter at hand. If I might be so audacious and possibly foolish as to attempt to define religion, it is a search for an empowerment. All our flaws might be fixed with the ethereal powers of faith. It is within our weaknesses where religion becomes manifest and therefore, where responsibility lies. Before I am stoned to death, let me say that I'm all for the spiritual catharsis that these fine institutions give. I've bent on wounded knee and bowed my head as much as anyone else, agnostic or otherwise. See, it's in a time of crisis that we suddenly become prophetic and spiritual; tell someone they've got cancer, and it doesn't even matter what god you pray to, because I guarantee you that he or she will start praying. That's the secret to a better congregation, it seems-injection of possible tragic endings.

The penultimate solution to this isn't easy, and there isn't much I can do to convince anyone big in the business to ease up on the reigns they're holding. However, that doesn't necessarily mean that change is impossible; it just means that it has to be held with the people-which is where power, if any, is really kept.

Editor's note: Read a different perspective from another CP: Faithless in the Foxhole: Atheists in the Military

Sources:

Pisa, Nick. 'Hell exists - deny it and you'll end up there.' March 27, 2007. http://news.scotsman.com/international.cfm?id=471992007

Keating, Karl. 'Wolves In Sheeps Clothing.' {Date unknown}

http://www.catholic.com/projects/wolves_in_sheeps_clothing.asp