To respond to the op, feeling has nothing to do with it. I don't care about what feels right, I care about what is right. And religion just falls flat when it comes to being right, there are so many inaccuracies and contradictions that there is no way that they were authored by a god of any sort. Also there is the fact empiricism has taken us further then any philosophy ever, it forms the basis of every reputable modern academic study, and when we use modern techniques of historical inquiry, it quickly becomes apparent that Jesus was no more a son of god then apollonius or Simon bar kochba. Or even Vespasian. In fact it becomes doubtful he was ever even a real person. I think even the church quietly concedes this because of how the teaching of Saul of Tarsus are far more prelevant in Christian doctrine then those of Jesus himself. Then there is the OT. The god described there is a monster. When you read it as the word of god it makes such little sense. But then when you read as a collection of stories designed to manipulate ancient peoples it makes much more sense.
Ex. The story of David and Bethesda. If you take this as a historical fact then you left scratching your head thinking really? God randomly pops in after Uriah is dead and kills a baby? Breaking his own commandments that a son shall not for his father sin?
But when you read as a atheist, the story and its meaning are clearer. And it contains an important lesson, that even the greatest of men can bring their fall by thinking with their dick, and in this story god is simply a literary device that carries out that point. He is as writers through the ages have called it, deus ex machina.
Ex. The story of David and Bethesda. If you take this as a historical fact then you left scratching your head thinking really? God randomly pops in after Uriah is dead and kills a baby? Breaking his own commandments that a son shall not for his father sin?
But when you read as a atheist, the story and its meaning are clearer. And it contains an important lesson, that even the greatest of men can bring their fall by thinking with their dick, and in this story god is simply a literary device that carries out that point. He is as writers through the ages have called it, deus ex machina.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
