Religions needn’t be mutually exclusive. Many religions make the same or similar claims, differing in some beliefs that are major and others that are minor.
Perhaps they needn’t be, but many of them are. The problem with the idea that they are all true to some extent and that it doesn’t strictly matter which one you adhere to is that you have to then concede that scripture is not the ultimate authority. Once it’s integrity has been called into question you are left with the problem of trying to justify following one teaching at the expense of another in cases where all scripture is not in agreement. Ultimately you’re left with a situation where you can’t even be compelled to believe that Jesus died for our sins lest you be directly contradicting something like the Qur’an (which has equal claim to being the correct account of God’s dealings with and what he expects from us).
You’re assuming that once you choose to wager that God exists, you would go through the rest of your life without genuine faith, without a growing, evolving faith.
Unlike many atheists you might engage on these forums, I’ve had an inside view of what religion is. I understand what it feels like to believe in God; to have faith that borders on certainty. I used to think that this was something that only God could bestow upon someone since it seemed like such a positive affirmation of his existence; a reward or sorts. That “communion” seemed very real, and the emotional and psychological rewards were easily recognizable. It had to be “something” right?
Of course it was something. We are understandably willing to slip back into the mindset that we had as children, where adults were beings of great power and influence that protected us (or were at least in a perceived position to be able to) both physically and emotionally from the harsh realities of the world. Believing something like that once again brings us comfort and confidence. But what about the obvious benefits of communion (prayer) with God? Essentially no different from writing down your deepest thoughts and fears in a diary, or confiding in a friend who offers a supportive ear. Personally I am lucky enough to have a great bunch of intellectual and open-minded friends and I have come away from many a conversation with a clearer perspective and often a new inspirational outlook. But as previously alluded to, sometimes you already know what you need to hear, or what is at the core of a particular problem, and all that is necessary is for you to say it out loud, or write it down.
Finally, I’ve witnessed just as many spooky coincidences that I would previously have (at least tentatively) characterized as examples of “divine intervention” since moving beyond my faith in God as compared to when I felt certain that God was real. Often, things just happen, and it is we who attach a significance to them (that is usually consistent with what we already want to believe of course).
Since I now understand something about the psychology behind what people may describe as the tangible benefits of faith, the experience of those benefits no longer has any bearing on the question of the existence of the object of that faith. In other words, faith cannot sustain itself if one realizes that faith itself is evidence of nothing, unless one’s rationality is overwhelmed by the emotional need to sustain it.
In the end it does indeed mean that my faith wouldn’t be genuine because I would need to sustain it artificially, and I would know that I was doing it.
