“What’s an illusion Dad?”

Mom decided she wanted to go for a picnic. She rounded us up and told dad to go to the market to get some lunch meat. We drove out to North park. Mom unloaded the picnic basket as we waited at the table.

“Joseph!”

Whenever my mom called dad Joseph instead of Joe or Joey we knew the shit was about to hit the fan. We grew tense.
“Joseph,” she said again as she opened she paper surrounding the lunch meat. “What the hell kind of lunch meat did you get.”

We looked at each other as mom glared at dad then we looked back at dad.

“This lunch meat is all brown!”

Another glare-down and we didn’t dare move; watching mom stink-eye dad as he eyed us.

“Babe, you still got your sunglasses on.”

This story was told to me at a luncheon following a funeral for my wife’s grandmother. She was 98 years young. It was the best, most profound part over the two days of calling hours and a catholic funeral.

You see at this catholic funeral the priest used great grammy’s death to parlay her devout catholicism as more reason to follow jesus, believe in jesus, live a life in and through jesus, so you (we) can be reunited with jesus upon our death.

Mmm, hmm. They call it proselytising.

You probably think nothing of this.

But as I struggle, excruciatingly, with the baptism of my children, I can’t help but think of something else the priest mentioned at the funeral.

I picked up on it while no one else did because I studied Leibniz.

“god knew what Helen was going to do from the moment she was born.”

Actually father, god knew what Helen was going to do from the moment of creation, not just her creation.

Please see Leibniz and the Principle of Pre-Established Harmony. From the moment of creation god knew what every monad would do. Every. Monad. For eternity.

Mmm, hmm. We call it foreknowledge. No biggie right. But if I told you I was god and I knew what you were going to do would you feel like you had a choice?

What the hell does all this have to do with suffering the thought of baptism?

Baptism happens early so that there is not so much time to think, to ask certain, cutting questions about just how things work.

I seem to notice this much more than all my catholic in-laws but the words just seem to mindlessly flow by them at the xmass masses and baptisms and weddings and I don’t think it is because I’m the atheist in the room; I think it is because they have been hearing it from day one. It would be like questioning the alphabet.

Mmm, hmm. We call it indoctrination. And if you don’t start early the effects may not hold.

And I worry about how this will play out for my children. I want them to fearless to question and voracious for truth.

“How, what if I...but why not just...to whom, for whom…?

Can they get that after, well, you know....psst!... indoctrination?

Indoctrination is clothed in ritual. And ritual is the illusion of permanence.

“What’s an illusion Dad?”

“Christianity.”

Yeah maybe I’m full of shit but I do know this, not much of Helen’s humanity was mentioned at that funeral. Not much at all.

I liked Helen. She was always nice to me and we both liked to do crosswords and baseball. I don’t think that had anything to do with the rosary or jesus.

“You still got your sunglasses on.”

Take em off and see the light.