Shit's Fucked Up

Wanna know how I know shit's fucked up? Because I went to a memorial service for my brother's good friend who died when he was struck by a hit-and-run driver. If you think that's tragic, the details—which I won't go into—are much more tragic. A young life full of potential lost. I'll leave it at that.

Another reason that I know shit's fucked up was because the pastor who presided over this memorial service felt it was appropriate to use this opportunity to remind us of how Jesus died for our sins. Great is this family's loss, but their pain and suffering pales in comparison to God's, who gave up his only son for the sake of a bunch of heathen humans who are really all sinners at heart. Just remember that no matter how much you're suffering, Jesus suffered more (and of course by virtue of the Holy Trinity, God and the holy spirit as well, or some shit like that).

My aim is not to be sacrilegious—okay as a reformed Catholic, maybe a little bit. My point is that this young man's death is not about Jesus, God, the resurrection or any other bit of religious myth. His death is about losing a person beloved by many and about both sharing in that loss and celebrating in his short, but well-lived life. We gathered there to mourn and remember him, not to be lectured about our supposed debt to Jesus.

Needless to say, this experience didn't do much to renew my long-gone faith in organized religion, especially given that it arrived on the heels of an interesting (though somewhat inflammatory) documentary on the epidemic of child molestation among Catholic priests.