Man, I pray to god there isn’t one. Or, if there is, she isn’t a Jehovah’s Witness. I guess the accurate term would be The Jehovah’s Witness.
The reason is simple: I think I offended two of her followers today.
I was at my own Mass — in front of the TV on NFL Sunday — when the doorbell rang. Esme and I walked out to greet them two women standing outside my patio gate.
“Hi,” the older of the two women began. She looked to be in her 60’s, her colleague perhaps in her early 20’s. “I’m Virginia. Are you happy with the way the world is headed?”
I could see the Bible in her hands as she spoke, so I could foretell the way the day was headed. Before I could reference Steven Pinker’s Enlightenment Now (which cites global poverty and violence statistics that suggest the world actually is getting better), she continued. “Do you know about the book that can bring you peace in these times?”
And so we were off. I’m not so much an atheist as an antitheist. Don’t gimme that wussy agnostic bullshit. Pick a side, jersey up and get on the field. I immediately liked Virginia; she was gung-ho for Team Jehovah, and unafraid to say so.
However, I don’t like arguing with the religious. That’s as fruitful as arguing with Trump voters or tree stumps. Still, religious beliefs intrigue me. So I instead engaged — probably more than she would have preferred.
“I’ve actually done a little studying of it,” I answered. “And I have a question.”
Not knowing me, she briefly looked optimistic.
“Certainly,” she said, nodding. “What is it?”
“The Bible is 2,000 years old,” I said. “It says if you follow the words of the book, you’ll be rewarded with heaven.” She nodded again, though less enthusiastically. I don’t think she liked the use of numbers here.
“So that means millions of souls, going way back to the caveman, didn’t know about the Bible, or even Christianity,” I said. “So do they go to heaven or hell?”
She actually perked up and began thumbing through the Bible, explaining that Jehovah’s Witnesses believe those who died before Christ actually are dead. But that they would all be resurrected on Christ’s return and be judged by Him accordingly (though I’m still a little vague on what constitutes a good caveman soul).
Now the questions flew out so quickly I needed verbal Depends. “Ok,” I asked. “How about this: Every year, nine million children under the age of five die (it’s actually more, 21 a minute, according to UNICEF stats), most from preventable causes. If I could put a stop to that, I would. Why doesn’t he?”
She didn’t hesitate and smiled. “I can tell you’ve thought a lot about this,” Virginia said. “But remember: God gave man a choice. Man can choose God’s path, or he can reject it. And you’re right; man has done awful things to man. But that is because of the choice that man has made. You don’t think God killed those children, do you?”
Open mouth, insert foot.
“But God created man — and every instinct we have,” I responded. “God could have given us a rabies shot against hate and didn’t. I think he is the greatest mass murderer on Earth.”
She closed the book, offered another sincere smile. “Well,” she said. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”
“I don’t agree to that!” I mock-shouted in a futile attempt to insert humor. Virginia laughed, though her colleague, who was silent though the exchange, simply scowled. Virginia and I actually seemed to enjoy the talk: We expressed our honest feelings — and appreciated an exchange that didn’t end in shouts or bitterness. Her colleague, however, clearly saw me as an uninformed heathen and was ready to leave.
I hope Virginia comes back. I have more questions. And she engages more thoughtfully than any believer I’ve ever met. Most non-believers, too.
But I give a reunion about a snowball’s chance in hell.
