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“I would never worship a god who would send someone to an eternal lake of fire to be burned forever for the simple fact of non-belief, when that deity knows exactly what it would take, to convince every single person on this planet. That is cruel, that is inhumane, it is not kind, it is not generous, and that is not a god worthy of worship.”
-Richard Lael Lillard
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No gods, no kings no masters
nonbeliever by lucy dacus but it’s about how i’m getting worse academically while everyone is getting better. everybody else looks like they’ve figured it out and i did once too. where did that go.
and if you find what youre looking for/write us a letter and tell us what it is
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જ⁀➴ diary moment:
i wish i could believe in god again. like i honestly wish i could have a faith in something. a year ago i was really religious (i was an apostolic christian) and i thought i felt his presence. then i started looking into religion and i realized i didn’t agree with it. i’m also a feminist and i personally don’t believe you can believe in a abrahamic religion and also want equal rights when that typically isn’t in those religions. (not tryna debate with anyone) i want to be more spiritual, but i can’t because my households don’t like different things, so i have to wait till i’m in college. i’m not lost, i just haven’t found anything worth believing in.
Adam Parrish wasn’t even close to religious. He’d tried it once, when he was eleven he went to church and saw nothing but a bunch of delirious people talking about something that could never exist. They claimed to know his eternal and unconditional love, but even then he was old enough to know unconditional love was a stupid thing people made up to feel less alone. He knew alone, felt it so deeply in his bones he knew it was real. Unconditional love, however, was not. It was just a made up thing.
He tried it once again, when he was nineteen. Ronan had asked so there wasn’t much room to digress, even when he already knew the truth —not real. He’d sat in the pews, stepped up when everyone else did, sang the songs he read on the pamphlet on his seat and knelt down when Ronan scowled at him. He couldn’t help but feel good about himself. ‘I’m better than them,’ he thought ‘I know the truth, while they are blinded by some fake guy who pretends to give a shit.’
Yet something inside him changed when it ended. He didn’t know god, he was grateful he’d never meet the man who was meant to judge him before all, but this time he knew they weren’t all wrong. This time he knew Ronan Lynch, dreamer of worlds, owner of all things Adam had considered holy. When he left he was sure believers were lonely, he knew a god and he had knelt down before him a dozen times before, he had bent to his will, he had created him worlds. But it was a forgiving god, proud owner of his devout and unconditional love.
Adam Parrish knew that if every church-goer would have known Ronan Lynch, they would perform the same rites to a real god. He understood the holiness of church and made a decision: as long as Ronan Lynch stood beside him, he would perform his own mass to him. Prove god didn’t need to be there for him, for Adam Parrish would always be beside him and follow him blindly and love him unconditionally and he would be loved back.
. . . they will be happier and better off without belief in God . . .
Brandon Taylor, from Minor Black Figures
