Religion is taking it on the chin, rightfully so in many cases.
I feel religions' pain because I am well-versed on what God wants: love the Divine with the whole of your heart and your neighbor -- even the person you don't like -- as yourself.
Thousands of years of Judeo-Christian history summed up in less than 25 words. Loving your neighbor means serving your neighbor, helping your neighbor, winching up a pale from the well of kindness and handing a full glass to your neighbor.
Maybe your neighbor is gay or Muslim or African-American or Chinese or a racist or a chain-smoker who puffs on the porch every evening. Maybe she's old, maybe he's bitter. Maybe life has scarred her soul, maybe his only hope rests in memories.
It's not easy being a loving neighbor; it's a silently heroic vocation plagued by its own brand of kryptonite: a refusal to open the door of one's own heart.