I go to political meetings. Lots of them. And they always start with the obligatory Pledge To A Piece Of Cloth, followed closely by an invocation.
Here is the first Merriam Webster Dictionary definition of invocation.
Invocation: 1. The act or process of petitioning for help or support, a prayer of entreaty (as at the beginning of a service of worship).
But I like the second definition a lot better.
Invocation: 2. A formula for conjuring.
See what I mean? That second definition adds some perspective on what’s actually happening, doesn’t it? Conjuring. It fairly reeks of snake oil salesmen and medical side shows from the 1800′s. Doesn’t that fraud John Edwards conjure spirits from the “other side?”
In my home county, the Republican meetings all start with a “formula for conjuring.” Ninety percent of the time, that formula includes a heartfelt, shake the rafters Hallelujah! and Amen! in the name of our lord Jesus Christ.
Everyone bows his or her head and prays to the savior who was sent to earth to wash away our sins. Except for one nay saying piece of garbage standing next to the guy who’s standing next to me. Yeah, that would be me. I just look around the room and wonder if I’ve entered the twilight zone. I keep waiting for everyone to look up, grin and say, “We were just messing with you. We don’t really mean to pray to Jesus when there are Jews, Muslims, Atheists, and probably a couple of Hindus in the room. We just wanted to see if you got the joke.”
But they’re not joking. They are invoking their version of the deity, or more specifically, his son, to shine down his special light upon their regular bi-monthly meetings. I guess he’s being asked to worry about the party headquarters office budget, and the phone banking seniors, and the warriors in HIS name who will be registering new voters at the Safeway on Saturday.
I’m going to take this a little further because I don’t think that’s all they’re doing. Sure, they want God and Jesus to smile down upon their efforts, sort of like the political version of Notre Dame football. But even more, they want me and everyone who thinks like me to get the message. What message? Get the hell out.
That seems simple enough. I am not wanted. I have not taken Jesus into my heart, so I should go fornicate myself. Oh, and I will burn in hell for all eternity. Have a nice day.
There is also another facet to this. They seem to believe that if they can just make me acknowledge the conjuring spell, for one second see their prayer as legitimate, maybe Jesus will be able to sneak into my heart. And possession being nine tenths of the law . . . Well, you see where I’m going there.
The Pledge To A Piece Of Cloth is used in very much the same way. Repeat the words often enough and they sort of lose their meaning. They become a reflex. Even atheists and agnostics are almost compelled to say “one nation, under god.” It’s the same kind of imprinting that makes ducklings follow their mother along the beach, or in a pinch, a human scientist standing in for their mother. Never mind that the Pledge was created by a Socialist and the words “under god” were only added in the 1950′s to force those dirty, godless commies among us to . . . what . . . burst into flames when they said the words? Make their godless commie mouths say the words and soon their heads and hearts will follow.
Well, they’ve sort of gotten their wish. I have gone away. More specifically, I won’t donate to or work for any professing religionist. And that includes all religions. If someone tells me he is a man of God, then God will have to walk the precinct for him. Zeus, Gaia, Beelzebub, same thing. Maybe all those quarters the Tooth Fairy leaves under his pillow will fund his campaign. After all, a superstition is a superstition, right? (I think I’m showing my age with that Tooth Fairy thing. Is it a five dollar bill the Fairy leaves these days?)
I started this essay with a simple title. My God is Better than your God. Why do I say that? Because my God doesn’t care one bit if you’re a Republican or a Democrat. My God doesn’t care if you pray or not. And he doesn’t care if Notre Dame’s football team loses or not. (I like to think my God agrees with me that his favorite teams are anyone who’s playing against the Mets or Notre Dame, but that’s probably just wishful thinking on my part.) You see, my God is better than yours because my God is agnostic. Until next time.
