Correcting the infallible

By CHRIS SCHILLIG
The Alliance Review

A few weeks ago, Pope Francis suggested that atheists could get to heaven on the basis of good deeds alone.

For many people, it was an indication that the Catholic Church was changing its stance and becoming more open and accepting. They were wrong.

The Vatican quickly issued a statement that contradicted the supposedly infallible pope. A spokesman noted that people who are ignorant of the gospels and the church could, indeed, pass through the eye of a needle and enter the kingdom of heaven, like the camel of proverb. Apparently, it's not their fault if the church's PR department didn't find them.

But people with an awareness of the Catholic Church "cannot be saved [if they] refuse to enter her or remain in her," said the Rev. Thomas Rosica, as quoted by United Press International.

In other words, a person like me, who has turned away from Catholicism and, indeed, all religion, will still roast in perpetual flames, while those who have accepted the gospels and Christ will enjoy the fruits of heaven.

But if I believe all this eternal-life-after-death stuff is bunk anyway, then why do I care what the pope, the cardinals, the bishops or anybody else believes? The truth is, I don't, not really.

But the pope's statement was a concession that many roads exist to reach a common destination, which is helpful to many people who have left one faith to join another, but who still are wracked with guilt because of earlier indoctrination. It is also a comfort to the faithful who worry over the souls of atheists in their families. (Hi, Mom.)

Additionally, the pope's words made me hopeful that we'd moved one tiny step closer to the day when all people could live without the divisiveness of religion, helping one another without the presence of some invisible being who holds out the promise of eternal reward or punishment.

We're not quite there, but we are advancing. Last August, "The Global Index of Religiosity and Atheism" showed that the number of Americans who identified themselves as religious had dropped from 73 to 60 percent since 2005, while the number of Americans who say they are atheists increased from 1 to 5 percent.

Slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

Whenever I write about religion (much less frequently than my critics believe), I receive a lot of mail. Sometimes readers say they will pray for me, sometimes that they will never read my column again, and sometimes that they will do both simultaneously.

Less often, readers agree with me, but when I ask if they'd be willing to have their comments published as letters to the editor, they almost always decline. Too controversial, they say. They have to work and live in this town, they say.

Such is the power of organized religion. I write for a newspaper that devotes two pages a week to positive portrayals of organized faith (and with two columnists whose work I enjoy), yet many cry foul when I look at religion critically two or three times a year.

For the record, I have nothing against people of faith in general or Catholics in particular. Some of the best people I know are both. I no longer share or understand their beliefs or reasoning, much as they don't share or understand mine, but that makes dinner parties more interesting, you know?

And I really like Pope Francis. He appears to be a man of compassion, a true shepherd for his flock, more concerned with a message of universal love than with the preservation of the church's hierarchy and rather arbitrary rules.

Unfortunately, the same can't be said for his handlers, who took his New Testament message of acceptance and covered it with a heaping helping of Old Testament judgment.

His way stood at least a chance of reaching the disenfranchised. Theirs, not so much.

chris.schillig@yahoo.com

@cschillig on Twitter

Originally published June 6, 2013, in The Alliance Review.