Invisible Yahweh

Last week, a Hollywood legend spoke to an empty an empty chair in a bizarre, rambling bit for the Republican National Convention.

I've always liked Clint Eastwood.  I liked his acting before he became more famous for directing.  I loved Gran Torino enough that I was surprised and disappointed when it was snubbed by the Oscars.  This  blemish on his legacy certainly doesn't keep me from wanting to see his current film, Trouble with the Curve.  Why wouldn't I want to see it?  It's Clint Eastwood, Amy Adams, and baseball.

Perhaps that's why I was hesitant to make fun of him.  It seemed out of character.  It seemed like a joke that seemed like it would work in planning but just fell flat.  Although, I did find the resulting meme amusing enough.

But neither Eastwood nor Eastwooding is my point with this.  This reminds me of something else.  To everyone who saw that speech, it looked like he had lost his mind.  He was talking to an empty chair.  He was talking to no one.

This is how many atheists see the religious.  I don't mean to offend anyone by saying that.  But if a religious person ever wants to know how they are seen by atheists, I cannot think of a better example than Clint Eastwood talking to an empty chair, that everyone involved knew was empty.