I saw this article on NPR this morning while I was scanning the news. I had to give a self-satisfied smirk, of course, but seriously, religious friends, take care of yourselves. I’m sure God will understand.

Through the eyes of the H1N1 virus, a Catholic church is a playground. The font of holy water near the church entrance is a great place for the virus to leap from one person to another. The passing of the peace, during which parishioners shake hands, is yet another favorite place for the virus. And then there’s Communion: The priest puts the host, or wafer, on a parishioner’s tongue or into the person’s hand, and then does the same for the next person. Often, he then serves wine from a common cup. It’s wiped clean each time, but that’s no guarantee it’s virus-free.

Bishop Mitchell Rozanski of Baltimore said these rituals have prompted a flood of questions.

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For those of you in the Logan area and who are attending SHAFT meeting regularly, many thanks. Now we have another favor to ask. As Paint the Street draws closer, we need to start thinking up ideas for a logo/quote/picture/something to put down in paint. If anybody think of something, let one of the officer’s know. If you want to draw up your design, even better. Bring it to a meeting, or give it to an officer as you see them wandering about campus. Thanks for your input, you guys, and I’m sure you’ll come up with something “inspiring”.

I came across an interesting series today as I was looking around the website Surf the Channel. I was looking for a documentary to watch (I know, I’m a nerd) when I came upon Richard Dawkin’s series The Enemies of Reason. In the first episode, which I am currently watching, Dawkins strays from his usual topic of religion to discuss New Age superstition. Technically, you can be an atheist and still believe in tarot cards, psychic readings, and ghosts, but why would you? Many atheist pride themselves on using logic and reason to rid themselves/avoid a belief in God. It seems only natural that they would want to use those same skills to decide whether to visit a psychic healer or a doctor to help with your arthritis?

If any of you have an irrational belief (and everybody does), I encourage you to take a second look at it. Do some research, and ask yourself, Does this make sense? It can be hard, and a little bit scary, to get rid of long held beliefs. Sometimes you need to let them go one at a time, weening yourself off of superstition. Finding the distinction between truth and lies is a life long battle that everyone is fighting. But everytime you throw off a silly superstition, whether it is religion or avoiding black cats, it brings you that much closer to the truth.

As I sat at my computer this evening, eating an otter pop, I heard a knock at the door. James rushed in the room, wide-eyed and nervous. “I think it’s your bishop,” he hissed. I jumped up and ran to the door.  I paused half way across the room and did a mental check. Am I wearing pants and a bra? Yep. Okay, I’m good. I pulled Mack away from the door and as I stepped out on the porch, I did a double take. There I stood, face-to-face with my high school Algebra teacher.

“Hi, I’m your bishop,” he began, and then broke off, studying my face. “Weren’t you in my high school math class?”  I could only nod dumbly. This was really surreal, and I knew this situation had the potential to get very awkward very fast. luckily for me, he continued on before the silence became too uncomfortable.

“I got your letter,” he said, “and I wanted to let you know, we’ve respected your wishes and sent a conformation back to Salt Lake. I You are welcome back to any of the meetings, or at block parties, or anything like that. We’d love for you to be involved. If you ever need anything, my phone number’s is at the bottom,” He handed me a folded paper as he said this. “It’s a copy of the letter I sent to Salt Lake. Once again, I want to respect your wishes.”

“Thanks,” I managed, a little chocked up by his kindness, “I really appreciate that.” And I do.  His respect for me made this whole experience a positive one, rather than the nightmare I expected it to be. I now have a deep respect for this man, and I may take him up on his offer to join in at a block party. If all the ward members are as open as their bishop, I think we’ll get along just fine.

Much like Proposition 8 in California, the people of Maine will vote on Proposition 1 this November.  Same-sex marriage was legalized in Maine only a few months ago, back in May. It is unbelievable cruel to give people this basic right, only to snatch it back from them a few months later. This election will have a huge impact on the GLBT movements across the country, and Proposition 1 could be setting a terrifying precident.

If any of you blog or Twitter, spread the word. Let people know. If any of you live in or around Maine, please get out there and help. If you can’t be there, but would still like to help, you can donate. You can find out all about the cause and how to get involved here.

Apparently, all we had to do to get God to stop pounding Florida with hurricanes was ask. It’s so simple! The governor of Florida, Charlie Crist, had the foresight to save his precious state. In 2007, Crist went took a trip to the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. He wrote a pray down on a slip of paper and placed it in the wall, as is customary. The note said, “Dear God, please protect our Florida from storms and other difficulties. Charlie.” That’s right, he is claiming that his prayer is the reason his state has been hurricane free for the past two years. Or something like that.

As Paul Fidalgo points out…

… in 2008, Hurricane Gustav caused widespread damage throughout the gulf region of the South. It didn’t hit Florida directly, but four people were killed on Florida beaches due to resulting rip currents. So I suppose that means God was keen on the landmass of Florida, just not so much all the people living in it.

And it’s not as though Florida has seen no storm activity since Saint Charlie took office. In 2007 alone, Tropical or Subtropical Storms Andrea, Barry and Ingrid, plus another unnamed tropical depression, made landfall in Florida. And in 2008, Tropical Storm Fay hit Florida four times — a record — killing six Floridians.

I wonder how the families of those killed feel about Crist’s boast?

Wow, word travels fast on the internet. Literally moments after I jokingly threatened legal action against the Mormon church for ignoring my requests, I got a call from my bishop. I didn’t answer the phone, since I am terrified of them, but I listened to his voicemail. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and I feel bad that he has to get involved. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. I think I will go ahead and write to the church offices again, and tell them to leave this poor guy out of it. You see, Mormons are just like anybody else; there are a few jerks and nutjobs among them, but most of them are nice people. It’s the church itself I have a problem with. It’s the doctrine of fear and control that makes me angry. It is a shame that I have to hurt good people in order to leave a horrible religion.

A few weeks ago, I sent a letter to Salt Lake City, asking that my name be removed from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It was pretty much the form letter from the site Mormon No More, although I did add special emphasis that my family NOT be told about this. I didn’t want to cause them any more heartache than I had already done.

In a surprisingly short time, I received a reply. Their letter said that “The Church considers this an ecclesiastical matter,” and that they would inform have my bishop come talk to me. I had never met this bishop, nor have I since then. Three weeks later, and I haven’t heard from anyone. I’ll be sending them another letter soon, asking exactly what the hell they think they are doing.

I find it frustrating that they will not do what I ask. It can not be an ecclesiastical issue if I don’t say it is. The only authority they have over me is the authority I give them. I don’t have to play along. Although, I do think it would be rather fun to sit through an ex-communication ceremony, just to see what it’s like, and to try to drop some jaws with my heathen ways. From what I’ve heard, though, they don’t really let you get a word in edgewise.