Do They Still Do That? Ep. 2

Speculating on how the couple who broke the 7th commandment ‘did it’.

I couldn’t really tell you what percentage of Canadian Reformed young couples have SEX before they get married. But I bet the chaste are in the scant minority. And I also bet there are a number who are not virgins when they finally meet their future life partner. I can tell you that there were two at least… If you catch me.

When was the last time you heard an announcement during the morning service? About a brother and sister confessing to a breach of the 7th commandment. Was there a subsequent meeting of the gossip brigade immediately following the service? How long did it take you to learn their identities? Four minutes? Five?

I remember the conversation quickly turning to how and when the deed may have been done. Study Weekend? When he drove her to work? When her trusting parents weren’t home?

This, of course, overlooks what I mentioned earlier, that everybody else was doing it too. You see, that’s what living things do. It’s how and why we were made. “Created sick and commanded to be well”. Full of sin. Depraved. Worthless. Wretched… Grovel for forgiveness.

Which naturally leads us to the outcome. Shame. Shame for the parents, grandparents, siblings, but most importantly, for the young couple (who did what you did too), who now have that yoke on top of the burden of simply figuring out how they are going to be good parents.

This is not to say that they wear this badge forever (except that they do. Secretly). People rally around them or course and do what good social groups do. But still. Despite all the drama there is nothing suggesting that these people are anything other than champion parents in the long run. Maybe even better, considering they have learned to weather more bullshit than the average couple.

So in the end, I would move to forego the announcement from the pulpit and chalk it up the same way as CRCers deal with the kid who swore at his parents. Once. And didn’t get stoned to death.

Isn’t it great the ‘Jesse & Bobby’ are pregnant? They going to be such awesome parents…

To Know the Truth.

The blogger at the-canadian-reformed-church.blogspot.ca recently published a post titled How Can Anyone Know the Truth? It’s a good read. Here’s my take on it.

The point of the piece is essentially, “what makes you think you’re right?” “What the are the chances YOUR religious beliefs are as close to correct as can be, and the majority of the world is incorrect. It’s a good question. It's also an age-old question.

If you’ve ever been to the mall, you may have noticed that there are often other people there besides yourself. Those people often have beliefs that differ from yours. Many of them are quite religious as well. And they all believe they are on the only path to truth.

Is it fair, dear reader, to ask yourself whether you could be wrong about your beliefs?* What is it that’s holding you to this view? I’m here to tell you that faith is not a good enough answer. We are all experts at imagining a world that suits us. Are you imagining the world where you were among the chosen? This is not ironic for me to ask—after all, I think I’m ultimately just worm-food—hardly a world that suits me.

If one thinks one is so blessed as to be one of the chosen few, surely one builds this belief on a firm foundation. But are you, or are you just believing what the people around you have told you (and believed) your entire life?

Without a doubt, right now, some baptist kids are secretly debating this very same question. And some Jews. And some Muslims (veeeery secretly).

A slight digression to get to the point: When you were a young child, you were probably very proud of your dad. You thought he was the very, very best. Maybe you knew someone else’s smart dad, handsome dad, business-savvy dad… but you knew that your dad was still the best one. He worked hard. He was a good provider, a good teacher, a stalwart, deeply moral man…

As you grew into a teenager, you began to notice his foibles, struggles and weakness. This doesn’t mean he wasn’t the loving, dedicated man you knew as a kid, it just means that you learned that he wasn’t perfect. And you did what I did. You overlooked and forgave because you loved him and you saw some of the same weakness in yourself. The point is, you were comfortable letting go of the illusion of having a perfect father.

Evolution built you to trust and believe. To trust and believe what you were borne into. I was too. But then, I grew up.

You’re naturally inquisitive in every other facet of your life. Why have you sworn off thinking about this one thing?


*Wait! don’t do it! That’s that whole doubt thing that always comes up in the home visits.

Do They Still Do That? Ep. 1

Do they still do that? I’ve been out of the game for quite some time. I don’t know what it’s like being a member of the Canadian Reformed Church in 2017. All I know is that it was unstimulating when I was still in. With that stupid intro, I present,

Episode 1: The Peppermint.

Do the pepermuntjes still enjoy exclusivity in the church?

Maybe, now that I think about it, there was some logic to the roll of Kings over any other kind of sweet in church. They could be dispensed quieter than a celophane-wrapped thing, or passed down the pew, they’re Dutch (which matters if you're as insular as we are), and dammit, they taste amazing. Oh shit, I just wrote ‘dammit’ in a church post! Oh shit, I just said ‘shit’ too!

Sometimes the only thing stopping me from nodding off part way through the (somehow obligatory) third point of a sermon was a mint. Indeed, they brought a little bit of sweetness to an hour of rather lugubrious abasement.

What’s your brand? The traditional King?

The fancy Wilhelmina ones in a box or cone-shaped bag? 

Or are you—like we were—the Bulk Barn scotch-mint-in-a-bag folks?

Why only mints, though, seriously? My mother told me it was a rule. So-and-so had told her. That’s pretty much how things roll in the CRC BTW. Mutual repression. If I had unpocketed some fruity candy during the service would it have come up in a home visit?

But wait, there actually was the literal black sheep of the church candy. The de facto substitute for the mint known as he the zoute dropje. Anyone who says Canadian Reformed people don’t have a sense of humour has never gleefully offered a double zoute to the neighbour kid and waited for his priceless reaction.

Digestible Falsehoods from the Pulpit.

I originally titled this post “Factual Inaccuracies from the Pulpit” but it really did deserve the title it has now.

A short while ago I sat in a Canadian Reformed pew when my clan and I visited my parents over a weekend. There are certain things about these visits that I look forward to and others that bother me. I have absolutely no shame or fear walking back into a CR church, though it can be sort of surreal. It’s nice to get a refresh on where things stand.

Here’s what happened.

Almost right out of the gate, the minister grossly misrepresented the notions of a popular public intellectual. I just happened to be quite familiar with the points the intellectual made. What the minister stated were not them at all. Did he not understand? Did he take shortcuts in his research? Was it deliberate just to help make his point? A short time later, he went on to mention Nietzsche! I read a little Nietzsche in university, but I truthfully couldn’t tell you anything that guy philosophized about. Most likely, you can’t either.

And that is the point: I don’t know if the Rev was telling the truth.

I know he wasn’t honest about the first person in his sermon. In the rare instance where I go and attend a service, a falsehood about the world is put forward. And make no mistake, you rely on the minister to give you info about the world every Sunday. This, of course, made me think, what are the chances that my particular church visit and the random uttering of a falsehood coincide? Statistically very low.

You can take notes in a service, but what are the chances that you ever fact-check afterward? Again, statistically very low. And in this case, very difficult to do. And that’s why we trust. It’s much easier to trust what comes from the pulpit.

But are you getting an accurate picture of the world?

The Trouble with Atheism

My goal was to only write SHORT posts. Already I'm apologizing...
Hope this one doesn't ramble too much. Like I said before, I'm not a writer.

Before Christmas I had the pleasure of sitting down to lunch with another former CRC member. It was the first time we had met and, not surprisingly, we had very similar stories—even though we may be close to a generation apart. I was glad to hear care and understanding for our CRC brothers and sisters coming from the other side to the table. As far as I can remember, nothing disparaging was vomited up to verbally kick around. And that’s probably a pretty good place to begin.

I’m no longer a believer. Neither was my lunch guest. Neither are loads of the other exCRCs I’ve met in person and online. But we all seem to squirm at the standard lines of many of the better-known atheists out there. They often fail to recognize or understand some of the nuances of what makes us human.

When we think of an atheist most of us conjure up some version of the same character. And that’s a shame. That character seems to own the atheist brand and take it past pragmatic conclusions and into a mean, arrogant place. At least that’s the perception. Many of the names we know in this sphere either explicitly or implicitly suggest that belief is just dumb. Could it be possible that these atheists—just as much as their believing counterparts—bare the stamp of their backgrounds? And here I’m talking about academia (which I love). But academics are a special kind of people. It’s truly a privileged position to have the freedom to ponder the deeper mysteries of being. The fundamentals that become belief are hardcoded into us—not directly for the purposes of belief, but for other survival-intended reasons. I’m over generalizing here surely, but I would say that Atheists (and maybe I’ll give them a capital A to differentiate them from the common unbeliever) fail to recognize the needs that average believers are trying to meet and how religion offers them a tremendous incentive to keep going.

It’s true that our modernity has led us down some stupid paths. We’ve allowed our religious instincts to be hijacked by a prosperity gospel that only has the husk of Christianity around it. Also, for some reason we care about what actors, musicians and athletes are up to. We’ve put our focus on crap as we broaden our horizons from the old way to worship. Why haven’t we put those energies to better use? Why haven’t we found fulfilment in taking that fervour and actually begun fixing the world? There’s a guy named Alain de Botton who articulated a better direction then I can. It’s from a few years ago. You can watch it here: http://www.ted.com/talks/alain_de_botton_atheism_2_0.

During our lunch the other day, my guest pointed out a casual quote from uber-Atheist, Richard Dawkins, who in the intro to someone’s podcast, says something to the effected of, “I find it difficult to imagine…” (and he goes on to say something about religious behaviour or belief). Difficult to imagine was the arresting part of that statement, and the very problem. Many of the more vocal Atheists seem to lack imagination. I believe they understand ‘why’ people believe, but they may have difficulty imagining why, in a modern world, this behaviour persists. I can tell you it’s much easier to imagine when you are able to step outside of yourself. I’m fortunate enough to straddle ‘class’ enough to enjoy a meal with factory workers one day, sipping Labatt Maximum Ice, and the next, be enjoying meal with the ‘monied’ that would cost a couple mortgage payments. Enjoying a perspective broad enough to see where each social stratum is coming from is illuminating. When you know how someone stresses about using his job at Red Lobster to provide for his growing family, then you can see how the evolutionary mechanics in his brain find his belief to be a bulwark. I’m not famous Or publicly respected. But perhaps having the public see you as an expert and believing yourself to be an expert puts a damper on introspection—the very ability to dive into oneself and understand how you arrived at your current perspective. So in that respect many unknown unbelievers have a better finger on the pulse. I will say one thing about public Atheist, Sam Harris. He has made point of looking inward and has an wonderful ability to imagine. Dawkins I’m not sure of.

Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene and The Blind Watchmaker are eye-opening by the way. Read them.

The last thing I’ll mention is ‘othering’.  That’s a word I think I picked up in 2016. It just means grouping people into the in-group and the out-group. The internet is full of rascals. And some of the most bombastic are Atheists. They share a smarmy battlefield with many Christians, Jews and Muslims. A lot of vocal atheists like to single out ridiculous aspects of belief effectively ‘punching down’. Check YouTube for ‘The Amazing Atheist’ to see what I mean. I won’t link to him here, he’ll like that too much. It’s true, there are also atheists who dwell on the dangerous, abusive or restrictive attributes of religion. While I do think that these are important to fight against, this all has the effect of creating an us-vs-them dynamic. And wasn’t this one of the main complaints about religion?

Why am I writing all of this?

I suppose I want it to be known that you are not the only one who sees Atheism (the capital A kind) and immediately grumbles. If you’re starting to doubt your faith or if you’ve doubted for a while, hit me up, it doesn’t mean you’re on the path to becoming a loudmouthed snob. You’re just beginning to see the what the emperor isn’t wearing.


After that, it’s up to you what you do. Hopefully you choose good.