The lady in front of me at McDonald’s was having a problem. I heard her, in a very agitated voice, desperately pleading with the pimply-faced clerk to "add something to my order, quick!"

My curiosity was aroused. What would possibly cause someone to demand more food be added to her order in such a tone? I mean, I often want more food on my order, but I am not usually willing to shell out the money. And if I do order more, I am much calmer about it. A simple, "I would llike to add a cheeseburger to that order, please" does the trick. Plus, I just could not imagine that this petite woman had such a ravenous appetite that she would demand more food in such a manner.

So I craned around her to have a look at the clerk and the cash register to see what could possibly be the problem.

And there it was: her total came to exactly six dollars and sixty-six cents.

Ah, 666, the number of the beast – there’s the rub.

The pimply-faced clerk, made newly aware of the apparent impending doom, quickly suggested that a hot apple pie would nicely navigate the total safely away from such dangerous waters (and earn him a suggestive-sell credit with his boss, I might add).

My first reaction was an inner eye-roll. Did this woman really think that a $6.66 order at the Golden Arches would relegate her to the minions of hell? How ludicrous!

But I quickly checked myself and tried to readjust my attitude. After all, everyone is at a different point on his or her spiritual journey, and we must not be impatient with each other just because we are at different points. I’m sure that somewhere out there is someone who would do the inner eye-roll at some of the stuff I am serious about in my faith. And if she truly believed that God would not want her to order burgers and fries totaling $6.66, then she should not do it, and that was really a sign of her desire to follow God’s will as faithfully as she knew how.

And then I heard her speak.

I shouldn’t have listened. I should have walked away right then. Had I not listened, I could have gone the rest of that day feeling good about the lesson I had learned about spiritual journeys and Godly dedication rather than walking around in a cloud of cynical funk.

"Whew, that was close," she said. "I don’t want any bad luck. I had a cousin once whose order was 666, and she got awful sick and had the worst luck."

"I know," responded the pimply-faced clerk. "I heard about this one guy who got hit by a car after…"

I could stand no more. I got in another line, ordered my Quarter Pounder Value Meal (I was tempted to deliberately order $6.66 worth of food, but I only had a five), and found a seat before I could say anything.

Man, was I agitated, and I couldn’t figure out why. What was about this exchange that got me so bent out of shape? What would make a seemingly normal woman and a run-of-the-mill teenage clerk so fraught with fear over a McDonald’s total? Was I being hypercritical of a religious belief and practice?

And then it hit me: superstition. Not a religious belief and practice, but plain old black cat, umbrella open in the house, Friday the Thirteenth, walking under a ladder, breaking a mirror, rocking chair rocking by itself, chain letter superstition. And I despise superstition. I have always tried my best to do or participate in every activity that people think of as superstitious, especially if the superstitious people happen to be present. The whole idea is so stupid, I can’t help myself.

Why are so many people so superstitious? I mean, isn’t it obvious that the notion of superstition is a comical, 14^th century anachronism? It’s ludicrous. I wouldn’t even call it sinful – just stupid.

Well, that’s for another day, perhaps, and another Monk. But here’s my real beef: why are so many Christian people superstitious?

First, we must agree that the two ideas simply do not mix. Christianity and superstition are as different as night and day. Christianity is all about a sovereign God who controls everything at all times. Superstition is about some arbitrary, ethereal thing based on luck that is independent of logic and reason and strikes without mercy or respect of persons. I realize that for some people, the latter definition fits their idea of God and Christianity better than the former. But true Christians know better.

Don’t we?

Oh, it’s not that most superstitious Christians are purposely superstitious. If you asked them, they would claim that they are not superstitious at all. But the brands of superstition preferred by Christians are, I think, the result of subconscious, unarticulated belief, so that most don’t even recognize them for what they are.

Please allow me to illustrate my point by labeling and outlining a few of the more prominent "superstition syndromes" that ail Christians.

This is probably the most prevalent and accepted form of Christian superstition. This allows otherwise intelligent people to "hedge their bets" on the whole superstition subject, while still being as superstitious as a mud-covered serf gaping at an eclipse. You can see the tell-tale signs of this syndrome when the person in question does some act of traditional superstition, such as knocking on wood or refusing to walk under a ladder, and you say, "What, are you superstitious?" And they sort of look away and respond, "No, but you know, I don’t walk under ladders just in case."

Just in case? Just in case what? Just in case the cavemen were right, and all science is wrong, and God doesn’t exist?

But you cannot ask these people what they mean by ‘just in case,’ because there is no answer -- chances are they don’t know exactly what they mean. There’s just some vague notion that you don’t want to take chances with something that could possibly result in bad or horrible luck. The fact that this is impossible does not seem to make an impression.

Wow, this one gets me. And it’s probably the one that is most openly accepted and practiced by Christians. This is the belief that whatever wrong you do or say comes right back at you (maybe even in double the dose) in some ironic, horrible way.

I think this one is so popular because certain people want it to be true -- it fits nicely into their idea of a vindictive, temper-tantrum-throwing God. Now don’t confuse this with good old Biblical "you reap what you sow" truth. This is much more along the lines of Karma, the eastern idea of natural retribution. Sure, Karma’s a neat idea and all, except for the fact that it is (to again quote Bogey in The Maltese Falcon) a lot of hooey.

A friend of mine once called in to work and used his daughter as an excuse for not going in, saying she was sick. Another friend first acted shocked, then sadly shook his head. My first friend said, "What?" in a guilty way, thinking that the other disapproved of his lying. But the second one actually said, "You shouldn’t say that. Now she probably will get sick. Then you’ll feel pretty bad."

Oh? So God (or the Fates or Zeus or whoever or whatever controls such nonsense) is just sitting up there with an Irony-o-meter, doling out ironic retribution based upon the degree of your lie? What a childish idea!

How about trying this just for grins and giggles: don’t lie because it’s wrong. Not because your daughter might really get sick if you lie and say that she is. In that case, the emphasis is on doing right because you’re afraid of some kind of pseudo-Karmic justice – when the real emphasis should be on doing right because it is right.

The Christian Karma idea also manifests itself every time someone makes fun of a physically or mentally disabled person, or a person with flawed eyesight or a speech impetiment or something. There are always people around who will say, "Oooh, you better be careful. Your kids are gonna be born retarded and near-sighted!"

Jeez. Give me a break. Hey, why don’t we do something really strange? How about let’s don’t make fun of people with disabilities because it’s wrong? Can’t that be reason enough? Do we really need to think that God is Rod Serling in order for us not to be cruel?

This one will probably get me in some trouble, because I’m going to pick on churches a little. Please forgive me. As the ump says, "I calls ‘em as I sees ‘em."

I attended a church once upon a time that was filled with a lot of good people who did a lot of good things for me and my family. I never fully jumped on the church’s theological bandwagon on a lot of issues, but I really feel that God wanted me there at that particular time, for reasons I won’t go into here.

One time I had some spiritual questions and concerns, so I went to the pastor (a Godly man with great intentions) and sought his advice. I was not prepared for the Twilight Zone I apparently walked into.

First, the pastor gave me a pamphlet that listed everything from shyness to insomnia to hiccups as (I’m not making this up) evidence of demonic influence in your home. The pamphlet instructed me to look for any signs of the items listed (pretty much every human characteristic) and then pray that God would cast those demons out of me and my home.

The pastor then told me a fascinating story about a couple he used to know who went on a trip to some foreign country (somewhere in deepest, darkest Africa, I assume) and brought home a necklace they had purchased in that country. Apparently, as soon as they got home they began running into nothing but bad news – the family got sick, the marriage suffered, spiritual malaise set in – until someone finally suggested that they get rid of that obviously accursed necklace. And lo and behold, the bad stuff went away and everything was peachy! Everybody got well, everybody stopped fighting, everybody became spiritually whole, the toilet stopped overflowing – paradise on earth! And all because they "cleaned house," as I believe it’s called. Fascinating.

But the thing I keep thinking is, Wasn’t there a Brady Bunch episode like that? Remember? The one where the family visits Hawaii and the kids come into possession of some kind of Tiki necklace that brings all the boys nothing but grief until they get rid of it? Yeah, I think there was. I think it was even a two-parter.

Those crazy Brady’s. What laughable superstition. Everybody got a kick out of the family’s plight (except my daughter, who recently saw the episode and freaked out when the tarantula crawled up Bobby’s blanket in the hotel). Yet this kind of silliness is believed and preached with a straight face in churches all over America by otherwise intelligent, Godly people. I don’t get it.

This syndrome primarily plagues a certain type of Christian: the type that rarely studies – or even opens -- his Bible. (I also want to say that he is usually not very intelligent, but I will refrain from saying such a cruel thing -- I would hate for my next child to be born stupid.) He prefers instead to rely on mysterious rumors and terrifying hearsay and poorly written books and movies.

The sufferer of this syndrome is usually a sucker for "Scary Bible Stories." He is the one who says, "I heard that when the twelve camels of the apocalypse flex their toes on the third Monday of the sixteenth lunar rotation, and the lone candle of the Temple of Doom blows out, Jesus will return, but only for seven minutes to snatch up thirteen expatriate Canadians in Brussels!" Then their eyes widen in anticipation of how scared you must be.

This syndrome is so frustrating to me because it reduces Bible study to glorified tea-leaf or afterbirth reading. And it reduces the Bible itself to nothing more than a book you flip through to find the eerie, creepy (usually "End Times"), camp-fire ghost story stuff. This is the syndrome that plagued the lady at McDonald’s, I’m pretty sure. At some point she must have heard some two-bit Biblical "scholar" theorize about the number of the beast, and she was ever after determined to never make the mistake of allowing herself to be associated with anything involving three 6’s. Never mind any of that down-to-earth, day-to-day Christianity stuff – just avoid that number, and you’ll be safe!

Hey, here’s another crazy idea: read your Bible. For yourself!

Ah, superstition. I could go on and on. Yes, I realize I seem really bent out of shape by this whole thing; and maybe I am a bit too obsessed with the idea of otherwise intelligent people accepting such tripe. But I can’t help it. If I saw intelligent people all around me trying to bleed disease out of each other, or making plans to sail off the edge of the earth, or drilling holes in each others’ heads to rid them of demons, I would say something. How could I not?

I guess I have no clever closing, no sarcastic dig to leave you laughing or angry. I suppose all I have left is weariness. I’m tired of seeing people accepting such mindless, ignorant (in the literal sense), arbitrary garbage.

Superstition is ludicrous on its face. Even if I were not a Christian, simple science and common sense alone would be enough to dissuade me from any tendency toward superstition -- nothing about science or modern thinking suggests such craziness could be true. But as a Christian, I have even more reasons to dismiss superstition outright – among other things, I have a loving God who is not arbitrary, a Bible that tells us of a specific plan for our lives, and a blessed hope that is the exact opposite of superstition.