Spirituality is a very personal thing and assumes many different shapes and sizes, sort of like body parts. For bunches of people, spirituality has nothing to do with any particular "Supreme being." I tend to like those kinds of folks because, often, they are introspective, compassionate, open-minded people who have the ability to engage in discourse and debate regarding spirituality without rancor.

But for most others, spirituality has to do with their particular supreme being and the accompanying dogma, and they must defend it at all costs. Early on, the futility of discussion becomes apparent. Suggest to a believer that, possibly, there are cracks in his foundation, and he immediately mans the turrets with big guns. If the walls of Jericho were as sturdy as blind faith, they never would've come tumbling down!

I don't like to label my spirituality, but I'm convinced there are no supreme beings. From my psychological perspective—and this is only my humble opinion that is not shared by all psychologists—I consider a belief in the hereafter to be a human weakness, an infantile wish suffered by people who haven't successfully completed the three early stages of psychological development: the autistic, symbiotic, and separation-individuation stages. One must successfully navigate the first in order to move on to the second, and the second, in turn, in order to move on to the third. The reasons for the perpetuation of this all too common failure—which leads to emotional problems and antisocial behavior—remain debatable, but one primary possibility is poor parenting. Influencing infants and young children to intense parental pressure regarding religious beliefs is as abusive and damaging as is touching them inappropriately.

An interesting experiment might be to withhold all religious dogma from children until they are old enough to recognize the dramatic impact their choices might have on their lives and the lives of others (similar to how we try to regulate smoking, drinking, other drugs, and sex until a certain age). Then, when they are mature and have the opportunity to become familiar with the many different beliefs, they will be in a position to make an educated choice or to choose none of the above. Under those circumstances, once they have made a choice, I don't believe they would have the same intense need to defend it, and that would spell progress for humanity.

I would never consider worshiping a supreme being even if he materialized right in front of my eyes. First, he would have to earn my love, respect, and admiration by doing good works in the flesh, here and now. Become friends? Yes, if we had enough commonality. But the moment he demanded anything smelling faintly of worship, I'd un-friend him in a flash! No entity—supreme, human, or otherwise—warrants worship.

Take deep breaths, control your anger, and carry on.

I've coined the term Worshipitis. It's a dangerous kin condition that is fatal all too often.

Author's Bio: 

I am a retired hypnotherapist, author, inventor, and club racquetball pro. I live in an 1813 farmhouse in upstate New York with my wife, Eileen, and when I'm not writing political/social change oriented articles, I spend a good amount of my time working on the sequel to my first novel, "The Zedland Chronicles" sub-titled, "Orphan Running." I admire men like Mahatma Ghandi and also Pete Seeger, who remains on the front lines in the battle for social/political change in spite of his advanced age.