They don’t just believe hell exists; they don’t just believe that, for whatever reason, many or most souls will be lost. They positively like the idea that many souls will be lost. They are insulted rather than comforted at the thought that many could be saved; that God desires that all be saved; that the Precious Blood was shed for them and for many for the forgiveness of sins. The thought of a burgeoning hell and sparse Heaven makes them pleased.
If, God forbid, you talk to them about a person who seems to have died in sin, they don’t say “we’ll pray for that person” and they don’t say “If God saw fit to show mercy to me, the worst of sinners, surely He can show mercy to this soul and I will pray that He does.” They just say “if he repented he is in purgatory, but if not, he is in hell,” and don’t understand when we don’t act enlightened by this information. They say that their grim fascination is because of Divine Justice. When you try to tell them that in order for a perfect Being to be just to His imperfect servants, He’ll have to be very merciful indeed, more merciful than we can fathom, they start talking about Fatima. If you point out that the Fatima Prayer states “Lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy,” they’ll call you a special snowflake.
Worshipers of Sky Daddy also often believe that Sky Daddy has given them many temporal blessings as a reward for their worship. They casually mention that “God gave me this excellent six-bedroom house for my ministry,” and “the Lord blessed us with this nice new car” and “Jesus gifted us with a money blessing.”
Mind you, this is something that Christians also sometimes say, but there are two differences: Christians realize that blessings are bestowed on them through mercy, while worshipers of Sky Daddy think God rewarded them for being good. Christians also realize that the nice big house, the money and the fancy car were not blessings for them only; they’ll have guests who can’t repay them visiting for supper and to crash in the guest room, they’ll give rides to poorer neighbors in their nice new car; they’ll spend the raise on fruit and bottled water for the local homeless shelter. Believers in Sky Daddy generally like to hoard their blessings. They’ll claim that they’re just being grown-ups: “I believe poor people shouldn’t receive a handout. They should work humbly for their food, their shelter and their benefits. We shouldn’t reward laziness. I’m not being cruel, I’m being a grown-up.” When you point out that growing up should cause you to deepen in empathy, to realize that misfortune is not always the result of laziness and that we ought to be kind to others regardless, they call you a special snowflake.
Worshipers of Sky Daddy can be fond of trolley problems– not because they like thinking about ethics, but because they think ethics really always functions that way. They believe that morality is not rejoicing in and reverence for the dignity of fellow human beings; they think it has to do with desperate, agonizing, gun-to-your-head choices that will always leave somebody lying dead with trolley tracks down their middle. If any moral choice doesn’t lead you to the top of a mountain with your only son strapped to an altar, you’re not serious enough about ethics for Sky Daddy.
Worshipers of Sky Daddy stone sinners to the point of death, then stand over their bodies and say “go and sin no more.” They call cruelty “tough love” and brutality “masculinity.” They widen their phylacteries until they can’t see out of their eyes; they tie up burdens too heavy to carry, and then fall over backwards because they refuse to bow.
These are just some of the manifestations of a belief in Sky Daddy. There are many others.
I don’t believe in Sky Daddy. I have decided to follow Jesus, to be a special snowflake or, as I prefer to call it, a Christian.
But, if I’m honest with myself, I see far too many embarrassing places where Sky Daddy has wormed his way into my faith. I need to repent of them, and throw myself ever more deeply into the mercy of God. And I’m nearly certain that all of my Christian readers could stand to do the same. We are all struggling sinners, drawn again and again to the worship of that idol.
Where has Sky Daddy infiltrated your heart?
Will you come with me to the altar of God, to repent of our sins and follow the Gospel?
Sky Daddy does exist, you see. We renounce him and all of his pomps and works, whenever we renew our Baptismal promises. He likes to style himself as an angel of light, or even as equal to God. Much as he hates the word of God, he’s been known to quote scripture to make his case to us. He likes to trick people into thinking they’re the very best Christians, the only real Christians, the remnant of Christianity while all the rest are special snowflakes. He loves to focus your attention on your own righteousness, rather than on the needs of your brother or your own need for repentance. He does love sending people to hell.
May God in His mercy forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors, and deliver us from Sky Daddy.
I’m grateful to my combox atheists, for pointing out the existence of Sky Daddy and teaching me that name. It’s a very useful way for me to notice where I’ve gone wrong in my faith. And I’m sorry for all the many the times that, through my most grievous fault, I have led people to believe that Sky Daddy was God.
I don’t believe in Sky Daddy.
(image via Pixabay)
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