There’s something funny about “resurrecting” a post about raising my son to believe in God. Amirite?

But with all this ridiculous Pope stuff in the news, I thought it made sense to revisit this old post, written only a few months after my kid was born. It’s about the conflict between my own disdain for religion and the feeling that some belief in one might be good for my son. At least until he figures things out for himself.

Anyway, Detective Munch is now halfway through his third year of life and he still hasn’t been baptized – much to my parents’ chagrin – so maybe this old post about that possibility is moot. Then again, St. Augustine didn’t become Christian until he was 32, so my kid still has time, provided Jesus or Xenu or Jobe from The Lawnmower Man doesn’t come back and smite us all before then.

Read this post while you wait, maybe you disagree?

Original Post: I’m Not Religious But My Baby Son Is