Tag Archives: Moral authority

We Want You As A New Recruit

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But what if I don’t want to be one? What if I don’t want to join you in your fantasy bubble? What if I’ve tried Christianity and found it incredibly disappointing? You’ll tell me no doubt that was my fault because I wasn’t part of the right church or didn’t have the indwelling Holy Spirit or didn’t have a proper relationship with Jesus. And you’d probably be right, given the Holy Sprite and Bejabus are figments of the imagination. Which is why I’m no longer a Christian, and why I will not be recruited to your cause ever again.

Why do Christians think they have to recruit anyway? They’ll give you all sorts of reasons from ‘the great commission’ of Matthew 28:18-20, to wanting to save your soul from an eternity of hell. I’m not convinced these are the real reasons. i think they want to convert you because they’re insecure. ‘Look’, they’re saying, ‘I’m part of this ridiculous movement and I feel quite insecure about it. I’m not sure it’s for real and I need you to join me to make me feel I’ve made the right choice.’

It’s the same with all the fringe groups that exist in Western society today. From Veganism to Just Stop Oil, Trans-activism to groups that want to rehabilitate the urban rat (I kid you not), I’m really quite happy for those who want to give up meat, stop using oil, identify as whatever they like and embrace rodents they think have had a bad press. But such people cannot and should not expect me, and society at large, to do the same.

I’m not convinced. Having reviewed the available evidence (in the shower) I find that I don’t want to give up what little meat I eat. The human body has evolved to eat, and indeed to need, meat. Plus, the vegans I know are among the unhealthiest people on the planet.

Immature Just Stop Oilers haven’t given up oil themselves of course. They publish their hysterical nonsense on devices made of plastic made of oil. They still travel to art galleries to vandalise beautiful works of art in modes of transport that require oil in some form. They promote electric cars and wind turbines, both of which require oil in their construction and operation. Just Stop Oilers have yet to show how ceasing to use oil with immediate effect is going to save us and the environment, rather than just taking us back to the living standards of the 17th century. So, no, I won’t be joining or supporting their cause and will not, because as things stand is impossible to do so, give up using what little oil I do use.

Nor will I be joining the Trans-movement or campaigning on behalf of it. Nor will I be cancelling those who raise objections. I’ve no problem with those who genuinely feel they are the opposite sex and quietly get on with doing something about it. But I cannot and will not accommodate aggressive testosterone-driven men in women’s clothing who are hell bent on usurping women’s rights. That is not what Trans is about.

As for the urban rat… are these people serious? They insist rats are not vermin even though they’re known to carry 35 diseases that are dangerous to humans, many fatal. Try asking those who think they’re lovely and cuddly whether they’d be happy eating in a restaurant with a rat infestation in its kitchens. Ask them if they’d like a colony hunkering down in their spare room. I wouldn’t, so I won’t be signing up to welcome the urban rat into my life any time soon.

And so it is with God. Please don’t waste your time telling me how lovely and cuddly he is. Don’t tell me how much he loves me and wants me to identify as one of his own. Don’t tell me I should give up living the life I live and love, so that I can be with him forever. As with all the causes that humans are prone to inventing, the evidence simply isn’t there. Leave me be and keep your insecurities to yourself.

Morality Tale

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Preaches   A man who believes in the impossible – and it is a man more often than not – appears as a moral authority every morning on national BBC radio. This same man is frequently asked by television networks to give his views on moral issues of the day, be they assisted suicide, pay-day loans, same-sex marriage & adoption, abortion or capitalism. And even when he hasn’t been asked, the views he expresses on these subjects are widely reported, sometimes all around the world. The man can, in one of his roles, sit in the second most important legislative body of the land, again as a moral authority, influencing laws that are binding on everyone else whether they believe in the impossible or not. Indeed, the man has an automatic, unelected right to be part of this august body.

   Where, you might ask, does this man’s moral authority come form? Is he a psychologist with a profound understanding of human behaviour? Or a geneticist with knowledge of the biological bases of our decision making? Maybe a philosopher who has analysed the cognitive processes that lead to moral decisions? An ordinary, educated person, then, who has given much rational thought to how we might best treat one another?

   No, he’s none of these. He’s just a man who believes in the impossible and wears funny clothes to prove it. Invariably, it is true, he has become quite an expert in believing the impossible and he’s even been granted a special place in society that allows him to encourage others to believe the impossible. As a result, he has somehow made the leap into thinking that, because he believes in the impossible, he must therefore be a moral authority.

   Now, we may not object to the man believing in the impossible in the first place – it’s a free country after all – but we don’t accept, surely, that because he does, it means he knows much more than the rest of us about morality?

   Yes, I’m sorry to report that we do. We acquiesce to the man and say ‘because you believe in the impossible, and for no other reason, you must know more about morality than we do.’ And when we are looking for moral guidance, we turn to him – whether we are the BBC, the rest of the media or the government – and we say, ‘what do you say about this? What should we think about it, because, after all, you are the authority here by virtue of the fact that you believe in the impossible?’ And the man, in whatever guise he appears – pope, archbishop, bishop, reverend, imam, rabbi – says, ‘this is what it says in my magic book (even when it doesn’t) and you should follow it, even though you might not believe in either the magic book or in the impossible.

   And we say, ‘Well, you’re the expert and we respect that you should tell us how to behave, if for no other reason than you believe in the impossible.’