'The fool who has said in his heart, there's no God above.'
Everyone usually attaches a
location or activity to a significant event. So for example, it is now a
treasured piece of information to say where you were or what you were doing
when John F Kennedy was shot – when you heard the news.
For most of us who have still got a
full head of hair though, our benchmark would be 9/11 – the twin towers coming
down. Where were you; what were you doing when the news reached you?
What was the moment you decided to
become a policeman, a teacher, a politician, to go back to school, to re-sit
GCE, to leave school, to learn a trade, to become a Christian – whoa! Hang on.
If you are from Southern
Nigeria , that last question has a very hazy answer. The closest to
a definitive answer we get is Pentecostal Christians saying, ‘I have always
been Christian but now I have decided to accept Jesus as my Lord and personal
saviour, to have a personal relationship with him.’
I say that is the closest because
even though Catholics have the sacrament of Confirmation, this sacrament is, in
my opinion, mere ritual for often uncomprehending but mainly indoctrinated
teenagers.
But that is no Alleluia for
Pentecostals. A decision by a Christian to accept Jesus as Lord is like a
shepherd deciding to take time to appreciate and savour the taste of lamb. Well
done Shepherd! Who saw that coming?
Such a choice is already suggested;
the basic premise had already been set firmly in the mind of the Christian –
that Jesus is the Son of God, and Lord and that it would be to their own
advantage to enter a personal relationship with him. No surprise there.
I remember the day I decided to be
non-Christian, a choice that quickly snowballed into atheism. I was standing on
a red-brick tiled corridor that connected two walkways of the same hue. I asked
the fellow opposite me, ‘Would you be a Christian if you’d been born up North
to a Northern family?’
‘No, I wouldn’t,’ he replied.
‘Why are we Christians then?’ I
asked back.
‘I haven’t a clue,’ he said. Then
he laughed and added, ‘It is all a random thing – your religion is really about
your environment.’
For me, it was deeper than that
though. I had been asked my whole life to believe stories and doctrines about a
religion and a God for which there wasn’t hard evidence other than individual
subjective claims of miracles and the bible, which itself was written to
promote the same faith, therefore, making it biased. And I would have been
asked the same by Islam in equal measure had I been born up North to a Northern
family.
If I had no real reason or proof to
believe in either faith or any faith for that matter, was I then a Christian
simply by suggestion – of my family, upbringing and environment? The answer is,
undoubtedly, yes. And if I had no proof for the beliefs of my faith, believing
in them would come down to a matter of choice – simply choice.
And then all of a sudden, I felt
ashamed. Had I been stupid enough all the years before to wholly accept as true
and accurate religious beliefs for which I hadn’t been provided evidence or
proof – beliefs that had ranged from the just believable to the downright
insane? I, who had always considered myself to be not unintelligent, had fallen
for the sort of direction given to kids.
Because, you see, that is
essentially what I think of religion – a fairy tale, but this time directed at
adults.
Oh! And you may be screaming at the screen now of the ‘reasons’ why you believe in God; perhaps, you call these
reasons evidence for God. Fine, I am not going to argue that point just yet.
But while all Nigeria in
their different religions will unite to ‘show’ me that there is indeed a God,
the same Nigeria
So then, show me, no show yourself
real reasons, evidence and proof why you have chosen your particular religion.
But remember Nigeria
So, why then are there different
religions in the country?
