At the doctors office the other day, while I was chasing my little girl around the waiting room, a nice man said to me, "She sure is a blessing." I smiled at him and responded, "She sure is."

I didn't mean it. 

My little girl is the most precious thing on the planet to me. I will stab, kick, slice, rip, murder, or maim anyone that ever aims to cause her harm in any way, and I will love and care for her no matter what decisions she makes until my soul is no more. But I can't bring myself to believe that God was responsible for her showing up here. I believe it was Love and a beautiful act of biology and cosmic fortuitousness that brought her to us.

I never mean it, either, when I habitually say, "God Bless You" when someone sneezes. I feel guilty for saying it because I don't mean it. Nobody says "god bless you" when someone farts, and what's the difference? Oh, right - that's "the devil's hole".

With my daughter being so young, and the prospect of prescribing her a religion for life on the horizon, one could see himself deciding if he wants the same for his children as he had. I've nothing but fond memories of my childhood, and that's what brings me to this crossroad.

All parents want better for their children than they had. In times past, children had many less available options than they do now. Historically the children did whatever their parents dictated they do for a career, for a hobby, for an occupation, for college, for church, etc., and many times those decisions by the parents were framed by circumstances such as geographic location, economics, and faith. But things are a bit different now and my daughter will have the right to decide for herself what religion, if any, she would like to subscribe to. Maybe it is the right thing to do to expose her to it and let her decide, but it seems silly to do so before she can even remember it. Personally, I don't care if we ever have some dude dunk her in some magic water and declare her fit for a heaven. I already know she is. 

Growing up Catholic I was forced to contend with the ritualistic drudgery that is Catholicism (forgive me for excluding all the other religions that also partake in ritualistic drudgery). First Holy Communion, Confirmation, the Stations of the Cross, Midnight Mass, blah blah blah. It was torture as a kid, but it seemed to mean something to my parents - something that I would never understand. And we went at least once every week, sometimes more than once since I basically went to church for elementary school and was taught math and reading by nuns. We were forced to go to church during the school day at least a couple times each week, and the only thing I remember about church with my classmates was getting yelled at for resting our bottoms on the pews while we were supposed to be kneeling.

But on Sundays, Mom made us go to church. She made us all go. Even my dad. We went "religiously" every week and I never got anything out of it. Except maybe breakfast somewhere afterwards. Despite my resistance to religion now, it is undeniable that it played a huge part in my childhood. And therein lies my problem regarding how to deal with this Jesus business with my kids. 

This over-exposure to the church community did not make me a moral person. Chanting and kneeling and standing and sitting and standing and kneeling and sitting and eating a cracker didn't make me a moral person. Sister Mary Robert reading Curious George didn't make me a moral person. Getting suspended for calling someone a butthole didn't make me a moral person, and eating fish on Friday didn't make me a moral person.

My parents made me a moral person. 

When my wife was pregnant, on many occasions I caught myself "praying" for a healthy baby. Then I realized how hypocritical that was. Why is it that we only ask God for things we want? That's a lousy thing to do since I don't rely on him any other time. You either believe or you don't, but you can't decide to believe when it suits your needs.

Each year, when the Super Bowl champ is handed the Lombardi trophy, some asshole thanks God for the win. I'm sure God was the reason you won. I'm also sure he was the reason the other team lost, despite the other team having prayed with the same fervor that your team did. The same goes for every war ever fought and every soldier on every side of every battle. They all prayed. 

And God Bless America. How arrogant are we to think that god gives a crap about only this country? Does he then not bless the rest of the planet? God doesn't care about this country. Countries are just boxes drawn up on a map of a rock floating through space, for which we periodically murder each other in order to take possession of land and resources. We are not doing "God's Work", we are doing our work. 

Most wars are fought with religion as a large contributor, if not the outright cause. Religion makes us judge other people and new things and other religions and other beliefs and scientific discoveries and progress of every kind. I choose not to judge and fear and instead choose to accept and learn.

Ugh. I digress. Of course this rant means not to take away from anyone's beliefs. The point is that we each must make our own choices and believe in whatever we feel is right. Maybe I haven't suffered enough to know if I need God or another omnipotent being to rely upon. Or maybe I just don't feel like telling my daughter she must like the color green, and that she must judge and shun all that like the color blue. 

But, no matter what, I will do my best to make my daughter a good person.