The Spiritual Quest of Klaus

Klaus was an eager reader who enjoyed many activities, but Religion eluded his fancy until one day he felt something was missing from his life. He knew it was not a girlfriend because he was homosexual. No, it was more of a feeling of unimportance in the world. How did he fit? What significance did his life hold in the galaxy? So he decided to look into these “religions” he’s been hearing about all this time.
The first was Christianity. Or was it a minor sect of it? No matter, he went to a church that was not far from his house. The preacher told people that he could heal their infirmities with the power of Christ. He amazingly appeared to know everybody’s name and their ills’ back-stories and to cure these ailments simply by slapping the patient and commanding the demons to “be gone.” How was this? Sensing that something fishy was afoot, he turned on a radio receiver and fiddled with its tuning knob. Soon he heard, “The lady wearing blue sitting in the third row is Sally and she suffers from a terrible fear of pickles.”
He had found the explanation: a hidden conspirator was telling the preacher the information using a radio transmitter! This evidence of the dastardly lengths to which its followers went in enticing spectators caused Klaus to lose all hope that Christianity could fulfill his needs. Klaus left the church at once while the priest proceeded to strike a woman wearing a blue dress and yell, “Praise Jesus!”
Next to the church stood a tall majestic building with an interesting ‘S’ symbol decorating it, so he went inside to investigate. He was told he had entered a church of Scientology and needed to pay an admission fee to go any further.
“You greedy bastards,” cursed Klaus as he promptly vacated the premises. It mattered little to him that the religion centered on evil aliens inhabiting people’s bodies because the fact that he could not even go inside for free was too much to bare.
Klaus visited a preschool and found that children there were told about silly things like fairies, dragons, and leprechauns. He questioned the teachers on the evidence of such fables, but all they could show him were texts lacking citations. Suddenly Klaus realized an important idea: If any religion could truly prove its teachings, then it should logically beat all other religions. Walking out of the school building, he pondered what this meant. “Maybe,” he said to nobody in particular, “these religions have nothing to do with logic at all.”
“Quite right, my boy!” said a man in a purple toupee near him. “The only discipline that does follow logic is Atheism.”
“Atheism? What’s that?” inquired Klaus.
“Atheism is the belief in the lack of or nonexistence of any supernatural entity, such as a god. Through reason and logic we find that it is just as likely for a God to exist as Santa Claus. We find that we can be good without anyone threatening us with hell or promising entrance into heaven because we are convinced that our ‘souls’ or consciousnesses simply cease to exist after death. Thus, we live our lives to fullest because we know that it’s the only one we’ll get and we act ethically because it’s simply the right thing to do,” explained the educated man.
“How do you answer the questions of life, the universe, and everything?”
“We look to science and reason for that. But to most of us, we don’t really care. What’s the point in knowing anyway? What difference does it make how we were made? All that matters is that we are here now and we have lives to live.”
Klaus was amazed by all this. People can actually live happily without going through long rituals or sacrificing animals to appease gods? It astounded him. Finally he found another question for the toupee-wearing stranger. “Where do you find significance in your life? Where does it fit in the galaxy?”
“Only on earth do we focus our attention. We interact with the world as we would with anyone else and find that the changes we make in it make a difference, however minute it is. But as long as we contribute in a positive way to the world and people around us, then we find contentment in our existence.”
“What about spirituality? What is that anyway?” wondered Klaus.
The man shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? I don’t see a need for it. But if you care about it, go ahead, believe what you want. Atheists don’t persecute religious people. We think that everyone should be allowed to say and believe whatever they wish (within reason). So we never fight in holy wars. By the way, do you know why religions are so successful?”
Klaus shook his head for he fervently wanted to know.
“It is easier to believe than it is to deny,” smiled the man, “Atheists struggle against this inclination more than anyone else. Mind you now, advertisements may sway us as easily as anyone else though,” he chuckled.
“Thank you for all your help,” said Klaus, “I think you have opened my mind more than any priest or proselytizer could.”
Unlike the trickery of Christianity, fees of Scientology, and baseless lies of preschool teachers; the cold, hard realism of Atheism appealed immensely to Klaus. Thus, from then on Klaus lived happily without religion to dictate his life for him.

The End