And no Forsaken by God service would be complete without Maranatha by Pádraig ô Tuama:

You are my strength, but I am weak. Maranatha.

I’ve given up some times when I’ve been tired. Does it move you?

I’ve fucked it up so many times. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

I’ve found my home in Babylon. Here in Exile.

In our Forsaken by God service at Journey last year, we ended the gathering by blowing out candles whilst listening to this song.

I said, 

During our closing song, we invite you to blow out a candle to symbolise your doubt, disbelief and atheism, and to recollect that we all find our home in Bablyon, in exile, forsaken by God, without God and yet with God still.

Leaving the room in the dark, we re-lit the candles during our Easter Sunday service.

The chorus of “Blasphemous Rumours” by Depeche Mode makes a great plainsong chant, to be sung over and over several times:

I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I think that God’s got a sick sense of humour, and when I die I expect to find him laughing.

This parable, “Finding Faith,” from Peter Rollins’ The Orthodox Heretic would also make a good reading for a Forsaken by God service on either Good Friday or Holy Saturday.

There was once a preacher who possessed an unusual but powerful gift. Far from encouraging people’s religious beliefs, he found that from an early age, when he prayed for people, they would lose their religious beliefs, beliefs about the prophets, about the sacred Scriptures, even about God. Now he rarely prayed for others, instead limiting himself to sermons.

One day, however, whilst travelling across the country, he found himself in conversation with a businessman who happened to be going in the same direction. This businessman was very wealthy, having made his money in the world of international banking. The conversation had begun because the businessman possessed a deep faith and had noticed the preacher reading from the Bible. He introduced himself and they began to talk. As they chatted together, the rich man told the preacher all about his faith in God and his love of Christ. It turned out that although he worked hard in his work he was not really interested in worldly goods.

“The world of business is a cold one,” he confided to the preacher, “and in my line of work there are situations in which I find myself that challenge my Christian convictions. I try to remain true to my faith. Indeed, it is my faith that stops me from getting too caught up in that heartless world of work, reminding me that I am really a man of God.”

The preacher thought for a moment and then asked, “Can I pray for you?”

Another thing that I did for the Forsaken by God service that we held at the end of the Atheism for Lent Course that I ran at Journey last year, was modify some dialogue from Angels in America, adding a sprinkling of Nietzsche’s madman, to make a reading entitled, “Sue the Bastard”:

The prophet, yes. That is what they call me. I am like a madman in a market place.

God abandoned us. He isn’t coming back. And if he ever did come back, if he ever dared to show his face in the garden again, if he ever returned to see how much suffering his abandonment had created, and if all he had to offer was death, we should sue the bastard. That’s my only contribution to all this theology, all this a/theology. Sue the bastard for walking out. How dare he?! He walked out on us, He ought to pay.

We suffer. But we don’t want death, we want life. I want more life. So bless me anyway. I want more life, I can’t help myself, I do, I want more life. I’ve lived through such terrible times and there are people who’ve lived through much, much worse. But we see them living anyway, when they’re more spirit than body, when they’re more sores than skin, when they’re burned and in agony, when flies lay eggs in the corners of the eyes of their children, they live. I don’t know if it’s not braver to die, but I recognise the habit, the addiction of being alive. We don’t want death, we don’t want After Life, we want life, here and now. And if we can find hope anywhere, anyhow, that’s it, that’s the best we can do. So bless us anyway, we want more life.

Thus spake the prophet!

Ed Harcourt’s ‘Church of No Religion’ would be a fantastic song to include in liturgy for a Good Friday or Holy Saturday “Forsaken by God” service to mark the end of Atheism for Lent:

Now it’s time to readdress what is sacred, are you sacred? Are you cursed or are you blessed? Were you created from all this hatred? And I don’t need a devil to change my mind. And I don’t need an angel to keep me in line. I’ve got my head screwed on like a nail in a cross. And I’ll make my own decisions.

And so the cup, it overfloweth into the Read Sea, into the Dead Sea, above the mountain or deep below it. It flows freely as you believe me. And I don’t need a devil to change my mind. And I don’t need an angel to keep me in line. I’ve got my head screwed on like a nail in a cross in the church of no religion.

You would think all of your cardinal sins will stay underground. You have ruined almost everything so step down, down, down, down, down. All your money and all your faith, all your miracles and holy visions, won’t make the world a better place, so take a pew and stop to listen: if World War III comes soon you’ll find me singin’ in a church, singin’ in a church, singin’ in a church of no religion.

Get the scissors, cut the strings. It’s time to move on, it’s time to move on. The puppeteer is out of time. We’ve waited so long, we’ve waited so long. And I don’t need a devil to change my mind. And I don’t need an angel to keep me in line. I’ve got my head screwed on like a nail in a cross. And I’ll make my own decisions.

You will think that all your cardinal sins will stay underground. You’ve ruined almost everything so step down, down, down, down, down. All your money and all your faith, all your miracles and holy visions, won’t make the world a better place, so take a pew and stop to listen: I’m tellin’ you the truth, if World War III comes soon, you’ll find me singin’ in a church, singin’ in a church, singin’ in a church of no religion.

Singing in a church, singing in a church, singing in a church of no religion. Singin’ in a church, singin’ in a church, preachin’ in a church of no religion. Singin’ in a church, livin’ in a church, prayin’ in a church of no religion. Singin’ in a church, singin’ in a church, singin’ in a church of no religion.

Continuing with resources for a Good Friday or Holy Saturday “Forsaken by God” service to mark the end of Atheism for Lent, here’s a parable from Peter Rollins, The Orthodox Heretic, pp.104-106:

There was once a world-renowned philosopher who, from an early age, set himself the task of proving once and for all the nonexistence of God. Of course, such a task was immense, for the various arguments for and against the existence of God had done battle over the ages without either being able to claim victory.

He was, however, a genius without equal, and he possessed a singular vision that drove him to work each day and long into every night in order to understand the intricacies of every debate, every discussion, and every significant work on the subject.

An Atheism for Lent Course is designed to be used in a group, with the group undertaking daily or weekly readings and gathering together regularly to discuss them. Peter Rollins suggests (here) that participants in an Atheism for Lent Course might wish to finish each gathering with a ritual, such as blowing out a candle or closing an open Bible. 

To mark the end of the entire Course, however, you might also want to create a worship service for Good Friday or Holy Saturday to reflect on the content of the Course and to share it liturgically with others who weren’t part of the Course group. When I ran this course last year with Journey, Birmingham, for example, we created a Good Friday service called, “Forsaken by God.”

Here’s some of the blurb we used to produce and then advertise this service:

Remembering Jesus’ words on the Cross and God’s own atheism, this service will also help us to feel something of what God felt at the Crucifixion when God experienced the absence of God.