I can hardly believe I’m writing a letter to someone I not only don’t believe in but if I did I’d hate with a vengeance. So to pretend for a moment you are real let me try to give you at least a sense of how monumentally angry I am with you. Livid, raging and incandescent aren’t nearly strong enough. You’ve let me down. No, you’ve let us all down. You’ve let the world down.
I came on this walk to Santiago and here I am with a bunch of other pilgrims. Most are either Christians or people trying to be “better people”. I smile and laugh and enjoy being with them but when I really think about it, if I’m being really honest, their apparent sincerity about you is sickening. A number of them went to church when we were in León with its big, fabulous Cathedral. I tagged along and all I saw was this man in a dress lecturing people about how to live. “Duh”, I thought, “fix yourself first”. So, god, you’ve not only let us down personally but your church has ended up as a corrupt institution which is intolerant, anti women, anti gay and racist. How do you square that? As for the paedophiles, you should all hang your heads in shame. Forever.
When these pilgrims talk about you they talk about you being a “God of Love.” Who are you kidding? Children die of cancer. You don’t help. Gay people are persecuted. You don’t help. Millions live in starvation. Your people sing hymns to you. Wars start and thousands get killed. You do nothing and your priests bless the bombs that will be dropped. People die in agony. Like my daughter. I prayed. Boy did I pray. I’d have done anything for you or for anyone if you had saved her. Not only did you do nothing you didn’t even respond when we asked if you would take the pain away a little.
I’ve been thinking about all of this as I’ve walked along. I had no idea this camino thing even existed but when Sally, Bob’s sister, told me she was going and asked if I wanted to come along I thought, “why not?” Spain is very Catholic and there are what seems like thousands of churches. Built on the pennies of the peasants no doubt. Why are there more fat priests than thin priests?
Last night one of the pilgrims told me the story of Saint James. One of Jesus’ friends who was executed and his body was transported to near Santiago in a stone boat. I was listening to this thinking, “I’m an adult and I’m listening to this fairy tale.” Get real.
So, god, you can fool some of the people some of the time, but not this pilgrim. If you have any evidence of your existence send it my way please with a list of the reasons why you sit back and just let us suffer. Loving God? I don’t think so.