You know the drill. As a little challenge to myself on the road to 40 (June 6, 2012 is coming way too quick), I am writing 40 posts that say something about my life. Today, I sit down with the All Mighty.

By now, you’re fleeing for the exits. I know – I’m crazy to throw down an opinion on religion – and normally, at this site and on Facebook (and for the most part – in every manner of my waking real life) I sit out the conversation. Here’s why. In regards to politics, religion and sexual orientations – I am totally cool with everybody doing and believing whatever works best for them. “Do what feels right” is a pretty good motto to subscribe to. That’s the little perk we get to enjoy in the free world. And I have friends who fall on all sides of every divide and I love them all for their disparate views, thoughts and backgrounds. Everything different than me only adds nice splashes of color to my life’s canvas. But this isn’t about them. At this site, it’s all about me. And if I’m to be true to my ‘Forty for Forty’ mission, then I owe you all a little perspective on where I stand on religion.

You gotta have faith! So sayeth, George Michael, anyway.

I know what you’re thinking. What am I, the ringleader to this ramblin’ rodeo doing tackling such major themes as religion and devotion? Not to worry – I’m hitting this topic as fleet and free-form as I nail all the rest – of course, I’ll try on a bit of sensitivity and see if it fits. When one gets the notion to tackle piety, you may want to devote more than a few lines and save the tired Tim Tebow sidebar for the next day.

All I know is, every few years, the news media jumps all over an alleged ‘miracle’. Usually the story surrounds either:

a. A comatose kid with miraculous healing powers
b. A mysterious image materializing in some every day item (see the Hello Kitty Grilled Cheese above)
c. A semi-talented QB supposedly guided through the NFL Playoffs by the Hand of God*

*I’ll get to Tebow in a few moments. Despite my glib provocation above, I think my feelings on the passion of Tebow MIGHT surprise you.

It’s Item B that never fails to stick in my craw. Sure, you can laugh the hysteria off but there’s the ever-present undercurrent of dangerous devotion that never sits well with me. Everything is better in moderation, people. Case in point; I recall a news piece – from several years back – that reached out and grabbed my attention. The article in question concerned the heavenly image example – specifically a visitation on the grounds of Milton Hospital in Milton, MA.

The story goes like this. Back in the summer of 2003, some whacked-out fanatic was wandering the hospital grounds (as whacked-out fanatics are want to do) when she looked up and spied the ghostly visage of the Virgin Mary in a window located on the 3rd floor. This nut job then went into the hospital and told all of her miraculous find.

That really should have been enough evidence to administer 32,000 cc’s of L-dOPA and call it a day, but unfortunately, the Boston media picked up on the story and fanned the flames of hysteria. You know, there’s never a Kardashian with Bird Flu around when you need one.

Despite the hospital administration’s claims that the image was formed by a mixture of cleaning products and condensation that became trapped in the two-ply layer of protective glass, a mass pilgrimage commenced to the site to worship at the foot of Windex.

At this moment I digress to offer some perspective.

During my 20′s, my friends and I would find an excuse every Summer to take a day trip to Nantucket to drink up that island nectar. Several years back – on a particular bright and sunny summer’s day – I stood on the aft deck of the island ferry soaking up the rays as we steamed towards the Gray Lady. Though the sky was tinged a particularly brilliant shade of blue, a handful of puffy white fair weather clouds dotted the horizon, each engaged in a mesmerizing ballet of metamorphosis. Those clouds put on a helluva’ show. Here was a butterfly. There Mt. Doom. Oh look, a sea horse. Finally, the coolest one of them all – a pirate ship with its mast tall and its sail drunk on wind. The pirate ship lingered longest and though its presence added a few ‘Arghs’ to our vocal stylings, at the end of the day, we knew there was no pirate ship. A cloud is ALWAYS just a cloud.

At the ripe old age of 39, I have a pretty healthy understanding of how this world works. What I can’t back up with fact, I fill in the blanks with gut feeling and smidgen of women’s intuition.

Religion, the worship of a god, is one area that I think I have worked out. At least how it applies to me. See – I’m no Bible Thumper nor am I a dyed-in-the-wool atheist (just one encounter with giving a friend over to Death’s cool grip is enough to make you want to believe in something (ANYTHING!!!) beyond this life.) Yes, that happened. Story for another day.

Rather I am a realist. I am not sure that I believe in a god or God so much as I believe in the possibility that anything is possible. But as George Carlin has pointed out, to believe that there is an ’invisible man’ sitting around watching us, is a little tough for me to swallow. For one – if He really wanted true believers, as the Bible says He does, then buy ad space on Super Bowl Sunday. It works for Buffalo Wild Wings. I’m going to Hell, aren’t I?

Now a life force; a unifying, universe covering force that is beyond our comprehension. Sure. Maybe???

Bear in mind – I grew up going to church and Sunday School – and back when I was a kid I believed everything I was told – to the letter. My parents aren’t overly devout people although they did have each of their kids Christened and we were told that we would attend Church until we hit our late teens and could be trusted to draw our own conclusions. They were very open-minded in that way and that’s exactly the model Andi and I have chosen to follow. With Andi and I – she is completely committed to her Faith (Catholocism) and I’ll say that while I may not subscribe to the notions put forth by contemporary religions; I also admit that my brain knows very little about everything in the universe. That’s a big place.

In other words, I’m no expert so I could be 100% completely wrong here and I allow myself to hold onto that out clause. That’s why I would never tell anyone how to believe nor do I believe any one person holds the complete answer. I think the only true answer is found inside yourself. If you believe there is a God, then there is. And if you do not believe there is a God, then there isn’t. And nobody should begrudge the other for their inner thoughts. Again – that’s one of the little perks to living free.

As a longtime fan of the show ‘Lost‘, I find it easy to describe myself with their clean-cut archetypes. On one side, you had Jack Shepherd – a Man of Science no matter what his surname might say otherwise. Then there was John Locke – the Man of Faith who was absolutely convinced the Island held mystical, mythical powers. As I’ve aged, I realize more and more, I’m the Man of Science. I’ve listened to arguments on both sides of the aisle and while everyone offers compelling stories, I just have a hard time divorcing myself from the real world science. For instance: Dinosaurs!!! If God created Man in his image, then why were big giant lizards prowling the Earth 65 million years earlier. It can’t just be because He thought they looked cool. Nope, it’s evolution baby. At least, that’s my opinion. And that’s just one of the many contrary facts that I find my brain latching onto. Remember, I went off to school to be a journalist and while my later career did not follow that path, it certainly began through my quest for truth. Just the facts, man.

Invisible men aside, I do believe religion has a good place on this planet. I believe it is a vital social tool, when used properly, to instill morals – to teach us how to be nicer people. Ultimately it is a great global safety blanket. It’s the reason why I gladly accompany my kids to Church each Sunday. Sure, their Mom sings in the choir, and they are currently enrolled in their early Catholic education – but it’s more than that. For starters, I want them to have the same luxury I did. To be exposed to all facets and let them draw their own conclusions. My opinion is my own and I’d never use it to color theirs.After all, there’s a 50/50 chance I’m dead wrong. Not the greatest odds so why not sit comfortably with my own opinion while letting others do the same with theirs. Who knows – maybe we’re all right!!!

But – I do believe in my safety blanket theory. We only need to look at Greek Mythology to see the roots. After all, the Greeks had hundreds of Gods. (“Hundred of Gods??? They’re wacky. Everyone knows there’s only one all seeing, all knowing Invisible Man.”) A bolt of lightning? That’s just that zany Zeus. Essentially, Gods were created to make sense of the world and to define all those scary things the world is always throwing at us. Of course, over the years, we figured it all out. Lightning is the product of charged ions in the atmosphere. Rub two sticks together and we create fire. Information travels faster over Fios.

That leaves death as the sole undiscovered country. Since no one ever rises from that dirt nap, it remains the one area we know absolutely next to nothing about. And it remains the one constant that scares all of us. No matter who you are – eventually Death catches up with you (Trust me! I’ve seen Final Destination three times!!!)

What do today’s modern religions covet as their central conceit? They are travel agencies to the afterlife – helping us get our soul in order before the voyage to the great beyond. And that makes everyone feel better. If we must die at least we are going to a place that looks a lot like Myst.

In moderation, religion makes most of us into morally upstanding individuals. Now it’s Tebow Time. Here’s the thing about Tebow. Like a lot of people, I was quick to mock the rookie QB with the penchant for dropping to his knees before and after each game – thanking the Son of God for every last-minute miracle he pulled from his playbook. Well – I’ve changed my tune. The National Football League is dominated by the celebration of thug life. There are a lot of bad, bad people in that league doing terrible things on their off-days. And they skate by on celebrity and notoriety.

And then there’s Tebow. A guy whose only vice is his absence of malice. Here’s a God-fearing, fresh-faced young guy with decent, developing talent who really should be a model citizen and people want to rip him because he chooses to call on God after a game instead of a hooker. I applaud that. That’s the kind of role-model I want in my kids’ lives. And despite Tebow’s public display of religious affection, he’s not preaching. Not really. He’s not trying to convert me. He’s just throwing on a smile and being honest about who he is. And that’s a virtue we don’t celebrate too often. I’d rather the camera on him than Ray Lewis any day of the week.

No – if I have a problem with religion – it’s when people go overboard which brings us back to Milton Hospital. When one spies a visage in a hospital window and refuses to believe rational explanations which fly in the face of pure, stupid blind faith it makes me shudder for the species. As with anything, overindulgence can be a dangerous thing.

I once saw the face of Normal Fell in a smear of strawberry cream cheese, and I’ve got to tell you, that was one of the most enjoyable bagels I ever had the privilege of jamming down my pie hole. I was thinking about it hours later. I mean… Norman Fell!!! The way he busted through the 4th wall on TV’S Three’s Company.

Now that was a comedy God!!!