KILL 'EM ALL

Let's get right to it. Based on the teachings many religious traditions, including the religion of my youth (Mormonism), one of the most moral things one can do is abort as many fetuses as possible. 

The argument is simple, really: Aborted fetuses get a one-way ticket to heaven. Abortion is murder and damns the parents to hell. Knowing that aborting a fetus will damn you while saving your unborn child for eternity makes it an eternal sacrifice. Therefore, aborting as many fetuses as possible while knowing that doing so damns you is an infinitely more moral act than raising them in a religion where they might not make the cut into heaven and be damned. What could be moral? Compare that to the weekend Jesus gave up to save only those who believe in him. 

Of course this creates a moral paradox. Committing such a selfless act as choosing damnation to save your children should be enough to save such a person from said damnation. But the whole concept of heaven and hell is ridiculous and is by definition deserving of ridicule. 

SO LONG, AND THANKS FOR ALL THE TRAUMA

This holiday season has been the best my wife and I have had in years. Possibly ever. And I'm saying this having recently recovered from COVID-19. Why has this been a banner year for us? There are over 400 miles between us and our closest Mormon relatives, and I have silenced all my social media apps. 

You see, we recently moved out of Utah. It was a long time coming. I quite literally should have done it 15 years ago (I didn't have the money or means to move initially and found various lukewarm reasons to stick around, like a couple bands or a dead-end career). But after several months of hard work and planning, we finally got the hell out of Dodge. 

Sure, our new home is in a warmer area with less snow and smog. But I have long suspected that my depression this time of year is not caused by the season, but rather I simply loath and dread having to weather the holidays amid a sea of insufferable Mormons. Now I have confirmation. 

It has been a few months since I last drove past a Mormon temple, or a billboard for color coded scriptures for children, or been held captive by a Mormon supervisor at work in a conversation about how awesome it is that their wife is cool with them drinking Kava with their poly friends. Or heard casual homophobia, racism, sexism. Or a comment from an executive director about how we should all be praying before a storm. Or heard someone say that Mitt Romney should quit his job as a senator for Utah because he voted to impeach Donald Drumpf for obstruction of justice and is therefore a traitor to the GOP and the US of A. Or heard a co-worker argue with a mental health patient about the existence of god which is totally apparent because he always answers prayers with "yes, no or wait." Or heard a family member say that President Obama and Hillary Clinton are depraved and awful people while Donald Drumpf is a godly and decent man who just wants to help heal this nation--after all, he did set aside his fortune and live in the humble White House. I no longer have to read conspiracies in a group text about Omicron being a covert way to inoculate the population against COVID-19 without the use of vaccines--which the government will never admit to! I'm not surrounded by conservative science deniers who don't understand the first thing about vaccines, masks or public health. I no longer cross paths on a weekly basis with 18 year old missionaries who are accustomed to having everyone greet them cheerfully and offer them food. I am no longer inundated by people who fetishize parenthood and ask intrusive questions (mostly to my wife) about why we don't have at least 5 kids. People don't look at my wife's multiple ear piercings and tattoos in horror and righteous judgement. People don't view my big bushy beard as statement of counter culture. 

But above all else, we no longer have to be the bigger person at family gatherings by leaving politics and religion out of dinner talk despite no one else doing the same. We no longer have to hold our tongues in silence as everyone around us shits on our beliefs. We no longer have activities like movies and walks in the park ruined by inquiries about our status in the Mormon church. We no longer have to worry about offending people by our mere existence while eating ice cream. We can drink coffee in peace. We can swear and talk about R rated movies. We can have beer in the fridge and whiskey on display. 

MORONS WITHOUT BORDERS

It’s not every day that I find myself shouting obscenities into the ether as I drive home from work. Not every day. Most of the time it’s because of some perturbing incident that occurred at work. Sometimes it’s because of a guest on a podcast I listened to who said something unconscionably stupid. Rarely is it because of something so mundane as a statistical political podcast. Rarely… 

The offending podcast is the 538 Politics Podcast. Ordinarily I find the program to be informative and refreshingly neutral on controversial topics. Occasionally they say something critical of twice-impeached shitbag Donald Trump. But can you blame them? The episode which seems to have glued itself to my craw was about the decline of religion in America and how that is affecting politics. I often listen to atheist podcasts which discuss similar topics, but since 538 is a political podcast first and foremost, I hoped they would have a different perspective on the matter. In a way, I was right.

Their guest was a man named Ryan Burge who had conducted a number of polls about religiosity and had written a book about the results. The results were consistent with similar kinds of polls and surveys from many other groups which all indicate that Americans are becoming less religious with each generation. This does not necessarily mean that everyone is becoming an atheist, Mr. Burge is quick to point out. But rather, they are unaffiliated with an organized religion. This has led to the creation of a new demographic: the Nones.

All of this is fine. All of this is consistent with other sources I have seen, heard or read over the past decade. So what did I find so objectionable that I screamed “fucking idiots” at my car radio over and over? You see, in addition to being a published pollster, Mr. Burge is also a pastor. And he just couldn’t help but pontificate on the implications of these most dire trends. And the hosts didn’t just lap it up, they piled on.

The main focus of their collective criticism of declining religiosity in the US is the effect it will have on charity and social safety nets. Mr. Burge strongly implied that the only charitable organizations out there doing any meaningful work for the less fortunate are all religious. I guess he’s never heard of Doctors Without Borders or Planned Parenthood or the Red Cross or the countless homeless shelters and soup kitchens run by local governments. So let’s crunch some numbers.

One of the reasons churches were initially granted de facto tax-free status (as opposed to 501c3 charities who have to apply for tax-free status) is that churches were presumed to be the social safety net of our society. The government in its infancy had no real welfare system, so any aid had to come from elsewhere. To encourage churches to fill that gap the federal government granted churches tax-exempt status. Since then, other charities have risen without any religious affiliation. These charities have to apply for tax-exempt status and release their financial records to the public AND there is an expectation (I’m not sure if it’s mandatory or not) that they will use at least 5% of their funds on their charitable work. Churches don’t have to do any of that.

Let’s look at the Mormon Church as an example, in part because I am the most familiar with them but also because they are widely known as one of the richest churches in the world despite their relatively small membership. They claim over 16 million members on their roles. They pull in at least $4-5 billion a year in tithing (likely much more than that) and several newspapers have estimated their assets at over 40 billion dollars. Some insiders have claimed the existence of a rainy day fund of over $121 billion. Yes, you read that right. $121,000,000,000. Which makes the total assets of the Red Cross (about $3 million) look paltry in comparison. This small church with astronomical coffers boasts $40 million per year of humanitarian aid worldwide. And while $40 million is hardly chump change, it makes up approximately 0.8% of their tithing budget. Compared to their rainy day fund it is 0.03%. Either way you want to count it, the Mormon church spends a fraction of the expected 5% that secular charities spend.

Let’s put a couple of things in perspective. In 2012 the Mormon church put nearly $2 billion in on a local mall (ostensibly so they could clean up downtown Salt Lake City (by displacing the growing homeless population)), which is roughly equal to 50 years of humanitarian aid by the church ($40 million x 50 years = $2 billion.)

In recent years Utah has put a tax on alcohol sales in state run liquor stores, the funds of which go towards the state school lunch program. Each year the amount of money raised from this tax is between $40-$50 million, approximately 10% of the $500 million in alcohol sales per year (well above the standard 5%). Utah has a population of 3 million. About half of the population in Utah is Mormon but about half of them are actually active Mormons. For the ease of numbers, let’s say 2 million people in the state are either not Mormon or are otherwise not opposed to buying alcohol. Let's say about half of them are underage. This leaves us around 1 million people who might possibly buy alcohol in the state. $50 million split 1 million ways comes out to about $50 per person per year going towards school lunches. Compare that to the 16 million Mormons worldwide who contribute roughly the same amount (again, worldwide), which comes to about $2.50 per Mormon per year. I’m sorry, but the alcohol drinkers of Utah do as much or more for charity just in their state of 3 million people as the Mormon church does worldwide! That doesn’t sound like it supports Mr. Burges’ argument at all.

The last time I paid tithing in the Mormon church I was a college student and paid a meager $1000 for the year (it was a bumper year, no doubt). If we use the more generous percentage of 0.8% going towards humanitarian causes this means approximately $8 of my tithing went to actual charity. Whereas, if I spend $50 per month on alcohol $5 will go to Utah schools, which amounts to $60 per year. And if I did my math right, I’m pretty sure $60 is significantly more than $8.

So, if such a small amount of the money one gives to churches actually goes to charitable causes, where does the rest of that money go? The church keeps it. They might put it into the building and utilities. They might pay their clergy (which even Mormons do, although many believe their clergy is unpaid). Or they might invest in stocks, land, malls and insurance firms (which is what the Mormon church has been doing for 50 years). But the problem is, one can never know how exactly a church uses their donations, because they are not obligated to disclose their financial information. Donating to a church you attend seems self-serving at best. But the truth is, many members who donate to churches are not able to get aid from their own church. I have heard countless stories of people who are told by their bishop that in order to receive welfare from the church they must first pay their tithing. And after they pay their tithing they still don’t get any assistance. And their children go hungry...

A Mormon once told me that they don’t want state run welfare because charity should come from religious communities. Well, are there not religious communities now? Are there still countless people being forced out of their homes right now? Utah has had a growing housing crisis for a few decades and more and more people are displaced from their homes each year. What is their religious community doing about that? What is the Mormon church doing about that? Are they going to build another billion dollar mall and displace more homeless people? Think of the housing they could build with that kind of money! They could literally end the housing crisis in their own backyard if they wanted to. Why don’t they? Clearly the existing religions are failing to keep up with demand. And they aren’t even meeting the bottom threshold of 5% that secular charities are expected to maintain. So, what good is your tithing actually doing?

GASLIGHT THE WORLD

Let's say there's a young woman who is in an abusive relationship with a man. Let's say he is verbally abusive towards her and controls her sexuality in part by holding sex as a bargaining chip. Additionally, if she doesn't comply with his manipulative behavior, he keeps her away from her family and friends. She knows this is unhealthy, but cannot find a way out of this relationship without potentially making matters worse. So, she cuts herself. Her abusive partner finds her bloody and delirious, and takes her to the hospital where healthcare professionals see the signs of depression and self-harm. A psychiatrist talks with her about the apparent abuse, and after several scheduled therapy sessions, recommends that the woman leave the abusive partner. They even get the police involved to make sure the man cannot hurt her further. She takes the life-line and walks away, finally able to start a better life.

As someone who works in treatment, I have seen this kind of scenario play out many times. Most of my experience has been separating children from abusive parents. This is typical for victims of abuse--separation from the abuser. It would be unthinkable, unethical, and possibly criminal for a mental healthcare professional to recommend that a victim stay in the abusive relationship. Right?

I have worked in a number of treatment facilities over the past decade or so. I can't say any of them handle religion in a manner which doesn't cause problems. Utah County is chalk full of Mormons, who believe that they have the one true gospel and only they can save humanity from themselves/Satan/god. The stated policy for every treatment facility I have worked for has been that employees should not proselytize religion to their patients. And yet, I have seen countless instances of Mormons breaking that boundary. Overtly, and unapologetically.

At any rate, I actually agree with the policy. I think it's a good rule of thumb for healthcare professionals to avoid pushing religion (and atheism!), politics, pseudo-science, etc. on the vulnerable people in their care. But some facilities take it a little further. Not only do they discourage proselytizing of patients, they also recommend that patients do not make any changes in their religious views while in treatment.

On the surface, I can see this being a good rule of thumb as well. But I have seen a number of patients who have been hurt by religion or who simply don't want to follow the religion of their parents, and the facility where I currently work encourages them to stick with it. I have seen therapists even refuse to talk to their patients about their thoughts on religion and how it affects their relationship with their parents. Even just encouraging the patient to set a boundary with their parents would have helped smooth out certain situations. But no, that would upset the parents and we can't do that, because the parents are the ones who pay the bill, and let's be honest, the parents are the real customers here, not the patient who is depressed because his parents are controlling every aspect of his young adult life. No, no, religious views (of the parents) must be protected!

Part of the issue here may be due to the fact that Religious Trauma Syndrome is not yet recognized by the scientific community at large. At least, it isn't included in the DSM-V (the go-to diagnostic manual for psychiatrists). Religious trauma can fall under PTSD and similar diagnoses, but as is evident by the way many people avoid talking to patients about religion entirely, I think it would be helpful for it to be it's own category of trauma. It would provide a context for professionals to talk to patients about the very real emotional harm leaving religion can cause.

Imagine a person feeling controlled and manipulated through religion for their entire lives. The people they trust most use religion to coerce them to do or not do certain things. Imagine the religion tells the person not only can they not have sex, but that if they touch themselves sexually that they will be separated from their family for eternity. If it was an abusive parent or spouse, a therapist wouldn't think twice about helping the victim out of that relationship. But religion gets a pass. Religion is presumed to be a net good and way too big a can of worms to open. I have heard Mormons tell suicidal LGBT people that staying with the Mormon church is good for them and necessary for them to be happy. All they have to do is either marry someone they are not attracted to or remain celibate for their entire lives. After all, their family is at stake. Why would they risk losing their family for eternity? Do they want to make their mother cry forever?

To be clear, I'm not advocating that therapists push atheism on a patient. That would be just as unethical as pushing religion. But I am advocating therapists being willing to walk a patient through their own beliefs and encouraging them to stay true to their values rather than the values imposed upon them by parents.

Like many people, I found peace of mind and came out of depression by leaving religion at the curb. Staying in religion would have prolonged my depression. Thank god I'm now an atheist.





BONUS MATERIAL:





Dr. Darrel Ray on religion and sexuality:

S.A.D.

I don't particularly like the holiday season. I want to, but I don't. Some might think I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (or S.A.D.). And while the timing seems to fit, I don't think it adequately describes my experience during the winter months.

First and foremost, I'm not really depressed. Sure the weather sucks, and I would rather it be too warm than snowy. But I can manage the cold, honestly. No, it is not depression that fills me, but anger. The holidays make me angry. I guess you could say I suffer from Seasonal Anger Disorder (too on the nose?).

So, why am I so angry when so many people around me are oozing joy and cheer? Why does the jingling of bells and conspicuous displays of trees decked-out with glistening, eye-catching trinkets get under my chilled skin? Religion. Of course it's religion. Religious people take their favorite holiday and spread it out over two seasons (yes, I'm looking at you, Costco). To them the "most wonderful time of the year" translates to about 5 months of overt proselyting. And when people push back and seek inclusion by saying something as innocuous as "Happy Holidays," Christians throw a hissy-fit about an alleged War on Christmas and a decline in American values, as if their religious traditions are synonymous with morality. 

I don't have anything against people being open about their beliefs and even arguing about them with others. I have done it plenty. But the holiday season gives Christians of all stripes a social license to be more brazen about it and they get offended by others doing the same. It isn't a level playing field. 

Some who have followed this blog or my other social media platforms might think that I am confrontational about religion and actively look for arguments with believers. While it is true that I have found myself in some pretty public arguments online and in person, I don't generally look for those opportunities, and I have even shut down many such conversations when I either didn't feel it was appropriate in the setting (mixed company, usually with children), or I simply wasn't feeling up for it. To be honest, I can't remember the last time I actually got into a religious argument with someone. It's probably been a couple years. 

I guess I'm just tired of the conversation. It is always with the same people (family members mostly) and I know it isn't a fruitful conversation to have most of the time. They are too defensive (they literally can't even entertain the idea that their religion might not be true) and my standards for evidence are too high for them to convince me (as if that's a bad thing). We are at a stand-still. Until something changes, I don't see the point.

Despite my reluctance to engage with believers, they routinely seek me out. Just in the past month I have been coerced through social pressure into participating in religious rituals (family members create situations where it would be perceived as rude if I refused), had the Mormon missionaries knock on my door and try to convince me to give them 10% of my income or suffer eternal consequences (when I told them I wasn't interested, they told me they would put me on a "do not contact" list if I gave them my name, which having been a missionary once myself I can tell you is not necessary), and an ultra conservative uncle of mine used the family contact list of all my extended family on my mother's side to send out a newsletter for his conspiracy-riddled Trump propaganda website. And I still have to make it through Christmas.

So, don't tell me "You can leave the church, but you can't leave it alone." I have been actively avoiding arguments with religious people for months (at least) and they keep badgering me. It seems they can't leave me alone. I would love to just let Mormonism be that silly little religious group I was a part of in my youth and move on to more important things, but they won't let me. They literally bring it to my house; they coerce me at family get-togethers; they advertise on freeway billboards and YouTube commercials; they make presumptuous jokes during staff meetings at work. Not a single goddamn day goes by that I am not reminded of the abusive, manipulative zealots that stunted my adolescence and young adulthood. And the holiday season just puts a bell and multicolored lights on it. So, please forgive me if I appear a little grumpy when I hear Bing Crosby in the grocery store telling me how wonderful it is that god sent his son to earth to be murdered because he--the all powerful, all knowing creator of everything--can't forgive his mortal children for touching their junk and drinking coffee without some good old fashioned blood-infused, death cult magic (it should be noted that as a child I was not allowed to watch the movie "Willow" because a sorceress tries to kill a baby so she can use its blood in a magic spell). 

You can leave the church, but the church won't leave you alone.





BONUS MATERIAL:




Christopher Hitchens on Mormon missionaries, among other things:

Christopher Hitchens on the death cult of Christianity:

STRAIGHT OUTTA DODGE

When the creators of South Park, Matt Stone and Trey Parker, dove headfirst into the Mormon pool by producing the satirical hit Broadway play "The Book of Mormon" they received a lot of criticism and adulation from all sides of the religious debate. The Mormon church actually bought ads in the program inviting patrons to read the book after watching the play. The church was betting that many who saw the play would think, "Wow, that's so cool that they are good sports about all this. Maybe I'll check it out." When the more self-righteous mainstream Christians clamored about Mormons not being real Christians and that the play normalized a cult, Matt and Trey came to the defense of Mormons saying something like, "Yeah, Mormons are weird, but they aren't any weirder than the rest of you Christians. At least when we run into Mormons they are super nice and happy all the time."

I get it. Mormons seem quaint and quirky to outsiders. A lot of people view Mormons in the same way they do the Amish: a little backwards, but ultimately harmless. And sure, maybe they aren't as subversive and nasty as some religious zealots can be. But that's how they get ya.

You see, for a Mormon, there is an ulterior motive to their overt pleasantness. They are literally selling you something. For the low, low price of 10% of your income, you, too, can achieve eternal life. Act now and they will even allow you see your family in heaven.

Their greatest marketing tool is their kindness. By being nice to you, the customer, they hope that you will be impressed by their graciousness and want to join their church. It is not unlike Coke-a-Cola spending millions to advertise their charitable givings during the Superbowl. And Mormons are not subtle about it either. They literally talk about it as a way to encourage non-Mormon friends and family to talk to the missionaries and get baptized whenever they have Sunday school lessons about how every member is a missionary. In fact, as an actual missionary one is required to do weekly public service so that locals will see the church in a favorable way.

In my mission we offered free English classes at the church for anyone who wanted to attend. I remember one time we were starting a new round of classes and we pushed extra hard to have a great turnout. We printed new eye-catching posters and plastered the city with hundreds of ads. It took us a week or two to post them all. When the class started we had our highest attendance ever. Dozens of people filed into the entry level class, most of whom I had never seen before. We were ecstatic. Another missionary and I were teaching together, and I started the class by explaining who we were, and what the class would be about. Suddenly, I felt "impressed by the spirit" to bare my testimony that the church was true and the Book of Mormon was a real historical document and all the other typical sound bites Mormons use during a sales pitch. Part way through my testimony, which was starting to drag and feel a bit forced (as they often do), the other missionary interjected and started writing basic words on the white board. He turned to me and whispered, "You gotta include more English, man." I was deflated. I really felt like god wanted me to say what I said, and that I would touch the heart of someone in our captive audience. After all, we were missionaries in post-communist Bulgaria. Business was slow and we were desperate for success.

The next week maybe 25% of the students came back. The week after we were back to our regular crew of about half a dozen people for all three classes.

Sometimes I think about that incident and regret sharing my testimony. Maybe I could have done some actual, no kidding good for the local people who obviously had a desire to learn English (learning English meant having a better chance of winning the Green Card lottery and moving to the USA). Maybe then my two-year mission wouldn't have been a complete waste of time. Other times I think it was a good thing that I put off so many people on the first day of class. At least that way they were able to see our true intentions--and let's be clear, converting them to Mormonism was our intention--and get out while they could.

Maybe it's a wash.

Fast forward to this past weekend when my wife and I went to her parents' home for dinner. We had a pleasant evening. There was good food, we played a board game, my dog got to spend some quality time with her third favorite person in the world. As the night was wrapping up, I thought to myself, "wow, this was actually a nice little get-together." When it was time for us to leave, my wife announced that we needed to get going, and without hesitation my father-in-law said, "Let's have a family prayer." It wasn't a question.

I was livid. I reluctantly stood by as my in-laws and my wife all kneeled on the floor and my father-in-law said a prayer about, well, I don't know, I was too upset to pay attention. The whole evening was a sham. It was coercive, passive-aggressive manipulation. He was betting that we wouldn't want to be rude after such a pleasant evening and would just go along with it. Then god would "do the rest" and soften our hearts and we would leap back into the Mormon pool once again.

Was is a big deal? Could I have gone along with it? Sure. I have in similar situations. But my wife and I have had conversations with her parents about Mormonism and our relationship with the church (we have both removed our names from the church's records). They don't know all the details, because my wife isn't all that eager to get in to it with her parents. And that's fine. She gets to dictate the pace with her family. But her parents know enough about our position to be able to reasonably infer that at the very least things like prayers and firesides and sacrament meetings and General Conference and reading scriptures is touchy for us and very likely to make us uncomfortable. Especially when put on the spot in front of other family members who may not know as much about the situation. What if our roles had been reversed? What if I made it a point to have a movie playing which I knew would offend my guests as they come in? What if I had steered the conversation to things like the health benefits of coffee and tea, or the moral case for abortion. What if before they left my home I insisted that I read a passage from Christopher Hitchens' book god is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything? At the very least I would be a poor host. But when religious people pull that nonsense knowingly in mixed company, they presumably get a pass. Frankly, it's rude and shows a lack of respect for our beliefs and boundaries. But Mormons don't care. The ends justify the means. In their view they are doing us a favor. They are offering us eternal life, after all, for the low, low price of 10% of our income. And if we act now we can spend eternity with pushy, self-righteous assholes.

I really need to get out of Utah...




BONUS MATERIAL:




Christopher Hitchens on how religion poisons everything.

CRAZY FOR JESUS

Note: I found this saved as a draft from last February. I never finished it and I don't really remember where I was going towards the end. I gave it a kinda sorta conclusion so that it didn't just end. Mostly I'm publishing this because I was going to write a similar kind of post about another recent occurrence of Mormons mormoning all over the place. I'm sensing a pattern...



I work in mental health treatment and the facility where I work has specific guidelines concerning the way in which staff should talk about certain topics with patients, the long and short of which is staff should generally avoid controversial topics, especially religion and politics. Living in Utah County, where everyone assumes locals are Mormon and "every member is a missionary," this is easier said than done since many people feel a strong desire to save souls from damnation and, after all, Mormonism is totally 100% true, so obviously it can't be a bad thing to use one's influence over vulnerable and impressionable patients in one's care to bring them to the truth which will totally change their life for the better.

You get the idea.

One would think that Mormons, of all faiths, would be able to respect this therapeutic boundary since they believe that those who don't join the church in this life will have an opportunity to do so in the afterlife. This, in turn, raises the question of what the deal is with those tens of thousands (notably not hundreds of thousands, Mr. Holland) of young pre-adult missionaries whose sole purpose is to convince other people that their worldview is fundamentally wrong and they should join the Mormons instead. What could possibly be the purpose of missionary work if the afterlife will surely tie off any mortal loose ends? (Tithing. The answer is tithing.)

The other day a few co-workers and I were chit-chatting between meetings. Apparently some Mormon co-workers not in the room have been bad in this regard. Very bad, indeed. Even after a superior lectured them and told them to stop trying to convert the patients to Mormonism, they kept doing it. And now they got one, because of course they did. Some time in the next couple weeks a mentally compromised and impressionable patient will be baptized into the Mormon church in part because they want to make their Mormon mentors happy. And because this is Utah County, other than a second slightly firmer talking-to, there will be no corrective action for the staff who broke this very important legal boundary (the fact that the staff broke this boundary could open up the institution to a law suit, although it's unlikely).

One person present in our conversation was very vocal in his opposition to proselytizing patients in our care. So much so that I thought I might have found a secular ally. That is, until he went on to clarify his position that although he would never talk to a patient about his personal religious beliefs, he really likes the fact that part of the treatment program at our facility emphasizes the importance of having a Higher Power and how it invariably helps in therapeutic treatment.

I was taken aback by this comment for a few reasons. First, I had completely forgotten that this was part of the program as I have literally never heard anyone--staff, therapist, nurse, psychiatrist--mention a Higher Power as part of the program in the two years I have work for this company. During training meetings prior to starting the job, I didn't make too much of it at the time because, again, this is Utah County and that kind of thing is pervasive within the professional community.

The second reason this mention of a Higher Power struck me was the apparent contrast, no, contradiction it has with the boundary staff are expected to hold regarding discussing religion with patients. I had never realized this before, probably because I had never been presented the two conflicting ideas so close together.

How can a treatment facility simultaneously promote the notion of a Higher Power as an integral part of its program and discourage staff talking about religion with patients? As my co-worker explained, it is because "a Higher Power can be anything."

Well, how is that not just offensive to everyone involved? Believers, non-believers, deists, Buddhists, everyone should find the idea that "a Higher Power can be anything" utter nonsense which belittles all worldviews. Allow me to explain.

For a non-believer (this would include Buddhists and other eastern philosophies which do not necessarily promote a god or deity which would intervene in our affairs) the notion that a belief in a Higher Power is necessary to be successful in treatment is offensive because it implies that since they do not believe they will not be successful. In addition to being offensive, this can be very damaging to the patient, and I have seen this first hand. Furthermore, the notion of a Higher Power in a therapeutic sense originates from Alcoholics Anonymous, which started out as Christian support group during the Prohibition which sought to bring vulnerable and dysfunctional drunks to Jesus. It is inherently religious. Only in recent years has AA and its affiliate organization NA (Narcotics Anonymous) softened the religious verbiage in order to reach a broader base. But the supernatural roots are still there. It should also be noted that the success rate of AA and NA is no better than other secular support groups, because what is really important in treatment and sobriety is social support.

For a believer in a specific, monotheistic god, like a Mormon, say, the fact that a Higher Power can be anything (i.e. a rock, a bag of chips, Donald Trump's dentures, etc.) suggests that the supposed benefits of believing are literally in one's head. What could be more offensive to a believer than to imply that god is psychosomatic, tantamount to a delusion?

For a deist, a Higher Power which would intervene and help a person with mental health issues runs contrary to the central tenet of deism which is that whatever Prime Mover started the Big Bang has left the universe to its own devices. Divine intervention is incompatible with deism generally. Even the softer notion of a Higher Power which would not intervene directly but would simply be disappointed if a person relapsed runs contrary to the core of deism. A deistic Prime Mover simply would not care about a person's treatment.

I could probably keep going, but you get the idea. What I'm driving at, despite my meanderings, is that I'm just tired of Mormonism. I left the church over a decade ago and I'm frankly exhausted. I guess it's true what they say, "You can leave the church, but the church can't leave you alone," or whatever...