Some of the better-known arguments for God's existence are pretty lame. Stuff like Pascal's Wager and the ontological argument. Great writers as well as random people on the Internet just blow them out of the water.

Non-theists, have you ever heard a really compelling argument for God's existence, one that had you completely stumped until after you'd spent hours lying awake figuring out how to refute it? Or maybe you never figured out how to refute it. Theists, can you present me such an argument?

If you can't think of any of those, then how about the funniest or lamest arguments you've ever heard? I either want intellectual stimulation or laughter. Go.

I was watching Tyra the other day. Tyra was doing a “pay it forward” show. Tyra informed a sick woman who loved fashion that she was getting a makeover and a photo shoot with Tyra and all kinds of cool stuff. The woman immediately replied, “Thank you, Jesus!”

Wait a minute. Why not “Thank you, Tyra?” Tyra was the one who gave her all that stuff. And why not thank whichever friend or family member informed Tyra of the woman's condition? Now, I'm sure the woman thanked these people, too, eventually, but why was Jesus the first person who came to mind?

It reminds me of the practice of saying grace before a meal to thank God for your food. Sure, maybe you believe that in some abstract way, God made the seeds grow or something. But really, the farmers did all the grunt work. Why not thank farmers? Why not thank the overworked and underpaid people who stocked the grocery store shelves, or the guys who loaded up the food truck or drove it from the farm to the store? Why not the person who cooked the meal, or the person whose hard-earned salary paid for the ingredients? (I'm sure there are many more that I'm missing.) Given free will, I'd say that, even if God exists, these people had a far bigger role in getting the food to you than God did.

Yesterday, about 20 miles from home, I got a flat tire. I'm an 18-year-old girl, embarrassed to say that I had no idea how to change it. (Plus, I was wearing a pretty, formal dress and heels for a dance later last night. Yikes.) Almost the moment that my teenage-girl friend and I popped the trunk, a man drove by. “Got a flat tire?” he asked. “Need help?” No more questions asked, he immediately got out of his car and changed it for us. Now, some people would have responded to this situation with a “Thank you, God!” or “Thank you, Jesus!” But why would I give them the credit for this act of kindness? Sure, you may believe that God planted the thought in the man's head to stop, or somehow “told him” to, or maybe even that the man did it in obedience to God rather than compassion for me. But in any case, the man had free will. He decided to stop, and God didn't force him to. So instead, I profusely thanked the man who decided to stop and change my tire. He carved out his precious time. He got his hands, jeans, and shoes dirty. He did it selflessly, for two complete strangers who he'll probably never see again. He's the real hero of the story.

Any thoughts on thanking God?

So today was Ash Wednesday, and I did child care for the evening service. A first-grader who's been to the nursery a couple times before was there. This kid obviously understands a lot about Christianity. A couple weeks ago, I remember him coloring with a red crayon and mentioning how red symbolized Jesus's blood. Today, he makes some remark about how Jesus died for our sins and how we should be thankful, how we should pray to Jesus and thank him. Whether by his parents or his church, he's obviously been taught the basics pretty well.

Me, I force a smile and choke on my "Uh-huh."

But after a few minutes, this same kid is pretending to shoot people with imaginary guns. The other adult tells him we don't play guns in church. I add that we shouldn't ever play guns, because guns hurt people. So he switches to playing knives. He takes a toy hammer and "kills" a baby doll. When he says someone "died," the other adult tells him that's not a word we should say in church. He remarks that no one objected when he said it about Jesus. Kids sure are smart.

Anyway, I'm just wondering why he's been taught about Jesus's bloody death for our sins, but not about how Jesus preached peace. When he starts to act out violence, why don't any of his Christian caregivers use that as a teachable moment to tell him all about how Jesus said to love each other and not to hurt each other? To me, these parts of Christianity are far more valuable than communion and the cross. The practical parts. The parts that inspire people to be good and compassionate.

As a child, I remember having nightmares about Jesus and his gory suffering. I remember in kindergarten being absolutely terrified of concepts I understood only vaguely. I was terrified of the devil, that he would manifest himself and hurt me. I thought a "broken spirit" was a horrifying medical condition, and I was terrified that the spirits of my loved ones would break. I was afraid that God would send another worldwide flood, and I'd drown. (I understood that he promised not to, but I thought maybe humans had simply misinterpreted the rainbow.)

So why do we teach kids the nasty parts of Christianity instead of placing more emphasis on the practical teachings? Why do we have to tell them such frightening stories so early? When kids are young, why can't we just stick to the concept of God or Jesus as a wonderful, perfect man who is everywhere and loves us very much and taught us [lesson of the week]? To me, that seems a lot more valuable.

Any thoughts? I want a discussion in the comments section. Go.