When we hear the ancient bells growling on a Sunday morning we ask ourselves: is it really possible! This, from a Jew, crucified two thousand years ago and who said he was God’s son. The proof of such a claim is lacking. Certainly the Christian religion is an antiquity projected into our times from remote prehistory; and the fact that the claim is believed — whereas one is otherwise so strict in examining pretensions — is perhaps the most ancient piece of this heritage. A god who begets children with a mortal woman; a sage who bids men work no more, have no more courts, but look for the signs of the impending end of the world; a justice that accepts the innocent as a vicarious sacrifice; someone who orders his disciples to drink his blood; prayers for miraculous interventions; sins perpetrated against a god, atoned for by a god; fear of a beyond to which death is the portal; the form of the cross as a symbol in a time that no longer know the function and the ignominy of the cross — how ghoulishly all this touches us, as if from the tomb of a primeval past! Can one believe that such things are still believed? (The Portable Nietzsche)
Unfortunately, such things are still believed.
Although I recognize the need for mythical narratives, much Christian mythology — yes, Christianity is a mythological system — is just plain silly.
Why does the Supreme Intelligence of the Cosmos favor credulity?
Why does God require faith? And why should skepticism be a sin?
The elevation of ignorance and credulity to virtues is what makes me hostile towards most religious systems.