Where Did Religion Come From: Everyone's Story

Let's take a moment and consider the origin of what is called religion. Despite humanity's differences we all found our origins in the same place, in some cave or tent 10,000 years ago. We were just one family then. Our grandfather was the patriarch of the tribe. Our father was the heroic leader: first in hunting, first in war. We had cousins and relatives not a few. At night we would tell stories. Usually the glorified histories of our ancestors. "Consider," grandfather would say, "the story of the tribe." We would all listen intently for what we knew would come next. 

Grandfather would lay open the genealogy of our parents. The battle of the gods. how the earth came to be. Adam, first of all men and Eve his wife. Noah and the flood. The formation of the tribe and the genealogy of the fathers. They would make us memorize on our fingers the names of our progenitors: God, Adam, Seth, Enos, Cainan, Mahalaleel, Jared, Enoch, Methuselah, Lamech, and Noah, who was grandfathers father making 12 all in all. 

Those nights of epics were our favorite. As time drew on and as the tribe grew, we would notice that our parents would sometimes dispute among each other concerning the affairs of the tribe. The politics were sometimes heated especially in times of famine or frost. Eventually grandfather died and we buried him in the manner he buried his fathers. Our uncle was displeased with the way our father led the tribe. He thought that his administration was to mid-evil and that times had to change, especially as the oceans began to recede and the glaciers began their long march for the north. Uncle took his posterity one day and left for better country. 

We would sometimes see our favorite cousin on the in the wilderness but that became more and more infrequent as their culture began to sift from ours. A quarter of a century later we saw a grandnephew briefly. He was wearing seashells around his neck. Never had we seen such an invention. To think of decorating one's body like a cave wall! What a progressive idea. We talked with him briefly. He had a strange tongue and many of his words we could not understand. He has come to exchange some of the shells he had for furs. We made the trade and he went on his way. 

If only we were immortal and could see the progress of the tribe after our death. We would see our children discover writing. They would record the stories we heard from grandfather so long ago. They would grow the tribe till the land became to narrow for them and some would split off and find a new place to live. We would watch as our kids would stay in the ancestral home and our sister's kids would travel to the east. Our uncle's in the west. And other relatives  scattered to the four winds. Sometimes the separate tribes would come into conflict and war would erupt. Some nations would be completely wiped out. 

Ironically, we would watch the culture of our children change. The religion and the stories we taught them would be expanded as new events occurred. We would contrast their stories against the stories that our uncle told his kids. They would tell of different heroes and gods. Different adventures and sacred records. And so their religion progressed until nearly no similarities existed between the two. How odd to think that two separate religions were once one. 

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