With every new discovery man has questioned their place in the cosmos. We once thought the sun was a god. The sea, too. In fact, before we knew better, everything we didn’t fully understand was given mythical powers to be explained away. Why wonder where the rain comes from when we can assume a goddess is blessing us? And when someone passed us a book that they claimed was written by prophets of a god, we read the book. We read because we were confused about how the world worked and our place and purpose in it. We needed direction.

And so we made up stories of gods, miracles, and heinous punishments. We had an explanation for everything. And with each new discovery, with every step that science progressed us, we adjusted our explanations. Soon there was no sun god but instead of ball of gas that we now know will one day burn out. One by one our gods and goddesses to explain the way the world works disappeared, lost to ancient cultures. And are we better for it? Are we better for having moved on from fairytales and magic? I like to think so.

So why are some still peddling ideas of gods and miracles for which they have no proof? And why are people still buying into it when we have science and reason and logic?

An Imaginary Paradise

I used to have a small of obsession. This obsession was with a young boy who ran away from home to a wonderful island, full of danger and excitement. Here, the boy never grew up. He never had to clean his room, or get a job, or think about the well-being of his neighbor. He also didn’t have to pray, wear special clothes, or eat certain foods. Peter Pan feared no one and did whatever he wanted. As a child, I clung to this idea that just beyond the stars (second one to the right, that is) heaven was waiting for me. A place where I could be happy, free, and never grow up.

Unfortunately, like all fairytales, I outgrew my wishful thinking for Neverland. I believe I’m better for letting it go. However, if I had decided that Neverland was real and I wrote a book on how everyone could arrive there, if they followed all my invented rules, how would I have been received? Would people have believed me when I told them about an island in the sky that I’d never seen? Would they have taken the stories I’d written as fact? Worse yet, would they have gather together in groups, rallying around this story, persecuting those who doubted the existence of my fictitious island? Certainly not! Right?

Why would they believe the stories of just one person? Why would they believe what they couldn’t see and couldn’t be proven? And yet, I stand amazed, at a book around 2700 years old (give or take) that is still being held as law by so many people. The stories of ships carrying two of each animal, of babies being split in two, of talking snakes, made interesting bed-time stories. But is it safe to believe the earth is only 10,000 year old? Is it safe to believe that the color of our skin reflects the nature of our character? Is it safe to believe man is superior to women?

If so, should I have remained in my Neverland world? Would there have been any harm in me maintaining my belief in pixie dust? Harm in getting others to believe the fairytales? What if I promised happiness, an island in the sky, and flying like an angel, and all that was required was happy thoughts (and a huge monetary investment)? When do fairytales become harmful?

What’s the harm in keeping humans in the dark? What’s the harm in manipulating their vote by manipulating their understanding of the world? The harm in telling lies if those lies help some people to feel better while hurting others? What’s the harm in promising heavens that haven’t been proven in exchange for money? In creating lists of rules to live by that don’t adjust to the growing knowledge and evolution of the human race?

The harms that can be seen and remain unseen are the exact reason organized religion is no longer appropriate for humanity. Once upon a time, humans were afraid. We needed books, explanations and stories, make-believe or not, to explain the world around us. We needed guidance- goals, structure, and direction. Humans thrive on this. And organized religion was happy to fill that need because there is profit to be made in fear. But what about now? Are damaging fairytales still needed in 2021? And is that real or perceived “need” justification for the very real harm it’s doing and has been doing since its inception (for those willfully participating and those who aren’t.)

While we no longer need to explain the sun’s rising or the rain falling, we need guidance on the purpose of living. And so instead of worshiping the Earth and Sun because our existence and all of life as we know it depends on it, humans have chosen to fill that need for god by creating their own. And books were written for how the world should be lived. Why? Because we crave certainty and will pay for the guidebook that tells us how to live so that we can wake up with confidence, knowing exactly what we need to do and what we will get if we do it. Not only do organized religions know this, they feed on it, and know you’ll pay for it.

The Cost of Salvation

Organized religions, such as Mormonism (or as they would prefer to be called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints), don’t care about individuals’ safety or peace of mind. They care about your money. And did I feel more confident because I “knew” the rules of how to live? Absolutely not. I killed myself trying to be “perfect” in my religion and God’s eyes. And I would never succeed. In religion, I felt like a constant failure. A broke failure. And here is exactly where they want me. I’ll work harder and pay more, without the religion having to do a damn thing. How was this possible?

The trick, to this alluring promise, is that you will never actually get the reward they have promised. You will serve your entire life, judge those around you, give your time, energy, and money, and die just like the rest of us. And that is where religion ends. They never have to come through on their promise. And in turn you can never ask for a refund. They will bank on your confusion and desire for knowledge, comfort, and peace. And that is the purpose of organized religion. It is a few people at the top, in the know, taking advantage of the many on the bottom, who aren’t. Kinda like an MLM (multi-level marketing) business.

So what’s the cost for total certainty? What is the price tag on eternal salvation? For Mormonism, it was 10% of your income for life. FOR LIFE. Calculate that…I’ll wait. Yeah. It’s a TON of money. What did God need an eleven-year-old’s money for? Was there an entrance fee to heaven? Then what about those who couldn’t afford the ticket? As you can see, as soon as one question is asked, the floodgates open and the whole system crumbles. Was I to believe God only admitted the wealthy and generous? God only admitted those who had found the “correct” religion (out of an estimated 4200 religions active today)? These are the questions that aren’t being asked, but should.

We Have The Power

So where does that leave us? If organized religion is purely out to gain our money by banking on our fear, what’s to be done? Doing away with the fear is a much longer process, but completely doable. Doing away with organized religion, however, can happen much faster. The more knowledge we spread, the more experiences we share with each other, the more we use our brains, the less we’ll need organized religion.

It may mean leaving yourself, helping a friend, or simply spreading comfort and knowledge where possible. It means helping those within organized religion understand their true needs, and help them to realize they can be met without religion. At the very least, we can encourage our government to tax religions who don’t contribute most earnings to charity (ie. The LDS church). Together, we can leave the dark God-fearing age, and realize the true wonder it is to be naturally-occurring human beings, no creator needed, and no guidebook necessary.

When I gave up Neverland, pixie dust, and flying, I gave up a little bit of hope. When I gave up heaven, special feelings, and angels, again I gave up a little bit of hope. But with giving up childhood fantasies like Santa Claus and the tooth fairy, I stepped a little more into adulthood, a little more into surety. Knowing how the world works breeds confidence, it doesn’t take it away. While I can’t say for certain what happens when I die, I can say that no one else knows either. And I’m pretty damn certain that there is nobody tracking my every little action and keeping score.

I know that not everyone will get their comeuppance or their just rewards. I know life isn’t fair. There is no prize if I do everything “just right” and, in fact, I now know there isn’t even a “right” way of living. And though I no longer have a guidebook or stories to explain every natural wonder, I feel more certain than ever. The world seems brighter. My mind feels freer. Flowers are more colorful, the wind more mysterious, and animals more friend-like than ever before.

Organized religion promises what they can’t: certainty. But as someone who has been outside of organized religion for a few years, I can tell you, certainty isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. While I definitely have days where I feel lost, like I’m spinning out of control, and in need of some hard direction, I can take a breath. I can breathe because I know there isn’t one direction. And that’s a feeling I’m still getting use to. And it’s a feeling I believe all humanity can get used to, if we can only be brave. If we can see through the profiteers of heaven and call them out. This blog is my small part in doing just that.

Organized Religion’s Time Is Up

Hear me well organized religions: Your time of control and intimidation is up. You are not the bouncers of heaven. You don’t really understand who you are, where you come from, or what happens when you die, so stop charging people for certainty you can’t offer. Humanity is waking up and realizing you don’t have the answers you claim to. And some of us, those whom you’ve likely hurt the most, will work hard to ensure your downfall.

We will do so by airing your dirty laundry and exposing your true histories. We will warn people of your sexist and racist views. And we won’t stop warning people what a cult looks like. We won’t stop sharing our reasons for leaving with anyone who will listen. We. Will. Not. Stop.

Special note to readers still within an organized religion, and those who have left:

It isn’t easy questioning all you’ve ever known, and if you’re questioning your organized religion, I tip my hat to you. And if you already did that, bravely leaving “certainty” behind, I give you the biggest high-five I can muster. I understand needing certainty. It’s not easy questioning the “truth.” Yet, it’s only having questioned the truth, and come out the other side, I can offer my hand to you. And when you come out the other side, you can offer your hand to someone else. It’s scary leaving the singular dangling light-bulb, braving the darkness, in search for the sun. But once you see clearly the purpose behind your organized religion, its glow fades. Once you see the true light of the sun, you’ll wonder why you ever doubted. Real life is so much more magical and liberating than fairytales ever could be.