I should stop reading Christopher Hitchens

Nothing very interesting happened this weekend. I did some more allotment work on Saturday and finally finished the weeding. Now I have to mend the fence and the tool shed. Sunday was a shopping day. There were squillions of people around. It took us ages to get out of Bristol after a visit to the Chinese supermarket.

My unconventional taste in music seems to have resulted in my 6-year-old son developing an encyclopaedic knowledge of obscure music. He now does a good version of Jackie Wilson’s Reet Petite and Ray Charles’ Hit the Road Jack. There can’t be many 6-year-olds who can do that.

I’ve realised that I have a problem with a fundamental point of Christianity. As far as I can tell, Jesus Christ shows up 2,000 years ago, claims to be the son of God, and offers to atone for the sins of man. I have something of a problem with the fact that I don’t know that he is the son of God, and therefore may not be in a position to make the offer, but I’m going to let that go because I have a bigger issue. I’m not sure I want him to take responsibility for my misdemeanours.

If I get caught by the police doing something illegal and I get a fine, or a prison sentence, and someone pays that fine for me, or serves time in prison in my place, I still have to live with the responsibility of having committed the crime. This is because no one can take my responsibility from me. It’s not possible to un-murder someone. And if I have murdered someone, I have to deal with the consequences.

I have two fundamental problems with the whole concept. Firstly, I don’t think it is possible to atone for someone else’s sin. Secondly, I think it’s morally unsound to do it even if it is possible. Does it mean I can do whatever I want because Christ has already died on a cross for me? That doesn’t sound right. That sounds revolting.

I should stop reading Christopher Hitchens.