I think, Mr. Dark, you've wandered into an immensely interesting area and one that, I'm sure, you'll be able to tie directly into Bradbury after you're through reading "Chapbook. . . " I eagerly look forward to your future comments on the book.

However, back to your discussion, it seems to me to be the classic argument of faith vs. deeds. (If I've oversimplified your position, I apologize, but it seems to me to really be the crux of your argument.) That is, what is it that makes you a Christian? Your faith or your deeds?

I'd argue that it is, of course, both, but the order of things is what's most important. You can have deeds without faith but I don't think that makes you a Christian. Faith without deeds may make you a Christian but not a very good one. I think if one has true faith, good deeds follow. Entry into heaven? We can only pray but that, ultimately, is up to God. We're required to have faith and do good deeds, regardless of the rewards, aren't we?

And, may I throw something else out that's way off the Bradbury track? There was some talk, I believe, of a jailhouse conversion by Timothy McVeigh shortly before his execuction. (I believe his confession was heard or last rites given or some such. I'm a little unclear on the details but, no matter: let's just say McVeigh or someone else like him has a heartfelt conversion.) Does this make McVeigh or the like a Christian? If so, what kind of Christian does that make him? Clearly, he has no opportunity to live in his faith, but what rewards, if any, does he receive for such a last minute conversion?

(For the record, I believe redemption is available for all if a true profession of faith is made. Thus, if McVeigh did, in fact, have a heartfelt conversion, I have no choice but to accept it as genuine. Not that by feelings have anything to do with it but if grace is available for the likes of McVeigh, then it's available for the likes of me.)

Pete

What a fun conversation! I must admit I derive some kind of.....unorthodox pleasure from asking somebody if he will get into heaven, and seeing his face kind of contort and twist, obviously uncomfortable thinking about "eternity."

I agree with pterran, in that Christianity requires both faith and deeds. However, I really, truly feel that the importance of Christianity is not always about God, heaven, or salvation. Let's say we manage to survive another millenium on this planet, and Jesus Christ becomes a mythological character, much like Odin, Zeus or David Schwimmer. The most important thing, to me, is NOT whether Christianity is true and valid (though I understand the inevitable negation of much of Christianity should Jesus be deemed fictional), but what he did with his life on earth.

I really think Christ was not here to convert people to Christianity. He was not sent to convince people of the existence of God, or heaven, or anything like that. He was here to help, serve, and set the perfect example of how one should live one's life, among other important things. In serving others, in being charitable, loving, selfless, etc. etc, we are being Christian. But maybe "Christian" is too restrictive - we are simply being good people. Christ was not about religion - he was about loving and serving others.

Anyway, an excellent short story along this vein is "Markheim" by Robert Louis Stevenson. I could be wrong, but I think RLS's work is now public domain, so it might be available for free on various websites. "Markheim" is, hands-down, my favorite short story regarding morals.

Kudos to you all for providing such a stimulating conversation!

Please accept my apologies in advance for a continuation of a Non-Bradbury string on a Bradbury site. I've gone a bit off the "Brave New World" track. But I've been asked a direct question, and since I opened the Pandora's box, I feel an obligation to give a good-faith response. My guess is it will not be satisfactory to all.

Do I know, at this moment in time, that I will go to heaven when I die? The short answer is "No". One of my core beliefs is that one of God's greatest gifts is the gift of free will. WE choose the kind of life we will live. The freedom of that is exhilerating, but I must say the Existentialists are right when they say that freedom equals responsibility.

If I choose to live in a way that violates GOD's definition of discipleship, I do not believe I am "in" God. I think one of the great scriptures in the New Testament is in Galations 2:20:

"I am crucified with Christ; nevertheless I live; yet, not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me."

I believe that the fruits of the spirit are dependent on the indwelling of Christ in the Christian's heart/soul. This spirit, being wholly good, is incompatible with evil. Several passages talk about the incompatibility between good and evil. IF we are truly saved, then the Spirit of Christ must indwell us. If the Spirit of Christ indwells us, how can we live lives of sin? Scripture says the two are incompatible.

Being saved is, as was mentioned above, in God's hands -- not mine. My claiming salvation seems to me to be insufficient to tie God's hands in the matter of a judgement. He is the ultimate judge.

I don't think "works" causes salvation; but I think works (as necessary fruits of the spirit) are tied necessarily to salvation. Again, saying we are saved doesn't bind God's hands. So when we claim a state of salvation, it seems that there must be a real "saved" state, which, it seems to me, requires the indwelling of the Spirit of Christ -- which is incompatible with a lifestyle of evil.

I think the Redemption, mercy and grace are fundamental manifestations of the character of God.

I also think that we are to respond to God and are to become true disciples. As cited above, faith without works is dead (another word for dead in this case may be ineffective).

The question of whether I know know that I will go to heaven when I die in 20 years, seems to deny the existence of accountability and free will. I may choose, in ten years, to deny Christ. Is a person who denies Christ going to be saved? If I denied Christ in ten years, does that mean I was not really saved at the present moment? These questions are too big for me.

What will I say? Christ has called us, not for us to say we are saved, but to discipleship to His Son. The promise of responsing to that call to discipleship brings the indwelling presence of God in our present lives, and it brings with it the promise of eternal salvation in the presence of God.

Do I expect everyone to agree with me? No. We've had 2000 years of Christianity with countless branches of beliefs and theology.

For Christ, the highest law is love. I think if we live that law, we will have peace in God's presence.

That's my view.

Again, my apologies for diverting this string. I actually have enjoyed the readings, but feel badly if I have offended, and feel badly that I have distracted from Bradbury's works. I will try to exercise more disipline and discretion in the future.

Mr Dark::::
Wow!! Real disagreement here, about getting to heaven. Ephesians 1 states that God... 'chose...' 'you' ...before the... foundation... of the world... to be Holy in His sight, by inserting you into the character of His son... (Exactly, where is Your say in the matter?)

(But this conversation another time...)

Because, right now....I think ...I dropped more than a couple worms out of the aforementioned can several postings ago.....

But not a bad thing, however.....

That is, if you understand that this conversation is not as far off the "Bradbury" subject as you may think....

You see, discovering Bradbury ...propelled me to seek God, and in the process, got "saved". I guess, I get a little talkative about that whole experience whenever I think about it.... Which is often!

Ray was the first one I told of my spiritual experience. He said he was glad that he was... a Christian influence in my life. But, honestly, I could never figure him out. For years I thought he was just covering over what he like... really, really knew, about God, about salvation. After all, I got saved persuing getting to know Ray.

Just a week before getting "saved," I was in Ray's old office up there on West Wilshire Boulevard, in Los Angeles, and I remember standing there talking with him, and felt this immense gulf between us. What was THAT? I couldn't understand it. A week later, I understood it. God was missing. The actual relationship with the Holy God of Scripture.

But only recently, did I begin to realize, that for all the God given beauty that is the talents of Mr. Bradbury, his direct understanding of who Christ is.... isn't!

Yes, there is this tiny statement... this tiny tiny statement, that says.... God is the final judge. But that is after scripture states that in the heart of man is already written the law of God...etc etc. and man has no excuse to refuse the knowledge of the existence of Him. ((Oh...let's face it... this is not doing justice to the conversation. I'm hitting here and there on things that require greater...f a r greater discussion.))

Final thing!! And I'm outta here for now... Ray used to talk about scenes he suggested for the alternate ending of the movie, "King of Kings". Now Ray actually wrote all the narration for the movie. But the Producer (or Director?) was unhappy how the movie had ended. Ray suggested an alternate ending, even tho the movie was finished (in the can.) Ray liked to refer to the final scene as the Last, Last Supper... that is, Christ, risen from death, is eating fish with his disciples by the sea. Afterwards, he ascends into heaven. But Ray said, Hey, how about .... And he went on the state how he would have ended the movie. But all along the way... and this is the point... he keeps referring to the risen Jesus in his speeches as the "Ghost" of Christ... not a physical resssurection..

So... I got a hold of a copy of scripture, tore out the page where it says, Christ was bodily ressurected, and said... look, here... "Not A Ghost!" But...sure enough, for the next speech on the same subject...there was that Ghost again.

Well, enough said....(right now, anyway....)

[This message has been edited by Nard Kordell (edited 01-06-2003).]

Bradbury is the one who turned me on to ideas, which turned me on to philosophy, which turned me on to religion. Whether he and I agree on the outcome of my religious beliefs is not the core concern for me. What I am grateful to Bradbury for (among other things) is that the religious sensibility in his writing helped open me to religious sentiment and thought. (Not to downplay that I grew up in a religious home, etc., but Bradbury's writing seemed to make me more sensitive to religious concerns.)

The question of predetermination, foreordination and free will has challenged minds that are far greater than mine. Erasmus and Luther exchanged significant correspondence on the question -- in debate, both gintellectual giants of historic proportions and both well-grounded in scripture! The question of predestination occupied significant portions of Calvin's "Institutes of the Christian Religion". Jonathan Wesley wrestled with this issue in sermon after sermon. Jonathan Edwards tackled the question in his monumental, "A Careful and Strict Enquiry into the Modern Prevailing Notions of that Freedom of Will Which is Supposed to be Essential to Moral Agency, Virtue and Vice, Reward and Punishment, Praise and Blame" (even the title is long!). So I don't pretend that I will fully grasp these principles, although I have wrestled with them with real emotion and reflection. But there are, I think, legitimate, good faith and intellectually and scripturally defensible positions that include variances in points of view on this critical subject.

Don't you sometimes wish you had a transcript of that conversation you had with Bradbury?

Nard, it sounds as if in your conversation with Ray you got a lot more out of him regarding his concept of the nature of God than I did in mine. All I got, despite how many ten-dollar words I flung at him, was, "We're all one." He has also talked about "Man and God creating each other." Anyone know what the heck THAT is supposed to mean? People who ask the question, "Are you going to Heaven when you die?" how often do you get the answer, "No, I'm coming right back here to Earth as someone else." I've often wondered if that is Ray's belief in his heart of hearts (thanks, Mr. Electrico, for burning in lightning your indelible mark--I think--) or if he's just toyed with it a lot--it sure comes up in his works enough. (Yes, Christ comes up often, too, but not, as you alluded to, in the conventional "Biblical" sense.) Oh, and don't you just love that little passage of narration in "King of Kings" about the disciples being naturally fine and lovely and hence "needed only instruction." How diametrically opposed is THAT to orthodox Christian views of Adam's fall and man's inborn depraved nature--you're born filthy, rotten, and putrid, and not a DARN thing you can do about it--can't you just hear the screams of Christian fundamentalists at THAT line--which sure never came out of King James? I'd love to have a quote from "The Swan" read at my wedding, but there's only about a paragraph I can use because the whole rest of the page all involves Helen Loomis and William Forrester getting "in synch" when they are born back...as OTHER people! (Not to mention the logistics--not only being the right age at the same time, but to be in the right place as well, and assuming they'd return in bodies of their same previous genders.) Arrrgh! No way am I having something so opposed to my religious beliefs read at MY wedding! Another thing Ray said about immortality (sorry, can't name the source as it was on a TV interview, maybe someone will know): he looked at his hands and noticed one was just like his mother's and the other just like his father's, and "when you have that kind of immortality, who needs the other thing?" Many of his works also seem directly opposed to the idea of (immortal, spiritual) life after death, "There Was an Old Woman" being one of the most notable examples. Strange to say, I DO agree with "Powerhouse" (and its inevitable companion/sequel in theme, "The Exiles") that a lot of your immortality lies in your contact with and effect upon your fellow beings and once the last of it is gone, it's an ending--but certainly that is not ALL there is to immortality! See C. S. Lewis, "The Great Divorce," about the disgruntled artist with his nose out of joint because his work was no longer seriously regarded back on Earth. Now, maybe Ray is just experimenting with these ideas, but there's such a resistance in his works to entertaining orthodox Christian views of the mission and purpose of Christ and an afterlife in another realm (Heaven, as opposed to coming back to Earth in another body or just to haunt the place) that one has to wonder--was Ray, as a boy, so impressed by the physical presence of death with its finality that he couldn't envision anything "after"--or did some talk at church (he's a "fallen-away Baptist," a regular churchgoer till the age of 13, and as an adult was at one time listed as a Unitarian) so traumatize him about "hellfire" that he refused to believe in ANY afterlife--even a GOOD one? ("The Night" certainly deals with a child's feelings of powerlessness, with its image of a dark, empty church and the uncivilized wild just beyond--and I can name only ONE Greentown story involving attending church--and that for a sermon on dinosaurs!) Does he NOT want to get his hopes up involving seeing/reuniting with lost loved ones--in case it shouldn't be true or in case one or the other party ended up in the "wrong place"? Somebody interested in these issues, good luck with getting him to talk. I hope you do better than I did.

Dandelion:::::What you just wrote is Amazing.....

Why did it take me so long to figure those things out....?

I love the man. Just I wore myself out, I think, trying to reach him with my exuberance. Crazy! It was time for me to be practical, I guess you can call it that, with my own life, and leave so much more of it to God, in prayer....

Had lunch with a friend couple weeks ago and he asked, "Do you pray for Ray everyday...?" And I realized that I don't... but am starting...

My prayer is ...that the Holy Spirit of God thoroughly invade Ray's mind, surprise Ray with transcending love... so that he will be made to truly see who Jesus Christ is: the deepest call the heart requires...all that is good, all that is lovely, all that is pure, now given to Ray in 'exchange' for the futility of his own reasonings, darkened by an enemy more powerful than himself. For God desires to show 'this' Love, His Love, His Glory...in all the Ages to come....

Much like the evasive metaphors discussed at length elsewhere on this site, the topic of Rb's spirituality has us all worked up it seems. And maybe rightfully so, since he is important to our way of thinking and imagining.

A few rhetorical Q's: How can a man whose life has really exemplified love of family, friends, and a religious approach to his life's work have a closed door in considering the purpose of life on earth?

He has touched so many lives and changed them for the better! Why?

Is he truly an instrument of God (are not we all!) who has been able extend his gifts (stories, imagination, hope, and inspiration) during a lifetime that now spans 82 years, without having a happy ending in mind for the realization of the greatest of all mysteries - the ultimate destination of life's journey?

So much of his writing deals with good vs. evil. His poetry abounds with references to God, Jesus, and Christian philosophy. Although, I often find much of Zen in what he writes. The two are quite compatible actually (with closer study to philosophical views). *Great book on this topic "A Taste of Water" by Chwen A. Lee, Thomas G. Hand.
For those interested: http://www.christianityinternational.com/bookstore/aboo...31498AMUS38724.shtml

How about his great love of Gerard Manley Hopkins? Something must hit an inner cord here. Then again, the likes of stories he has written: "The Fire-Balloons," "The Man," so many passages in Dandelion Wine that have such a powerful "due unto others" message that something must be hidden between the lines (passing of Gr. Grandmother's spirit, Jonas' healing touch and air to breathe, and the near-death experience from which Douglas returns to have hope for what life holds (in the many years to come). Also, Christus Apollo!

My prayers are always for family, friends, peace, and the virtue of humility. Because of what I have gained from exchange with and reading of Mr. Bradbury, I pray for him because in a way he fits into each of these categories!

I always remember a closing statement made in a sermon on "living a free life." The gist was this: we are indeed able to choose freely to take any roads we wish, but in our most personal prayers and requests (if we are sincere in seeking spiritual growth and thus bettering the world around us), we need to do some "careful listening." When we do this, we may even hear God's laughter - after we tell Him what "our" great plans are!

I'm not sure that -- because Ray is not involved in an orthodox christian tradition -- this necessarily means he "has a closed door in considering the purpose of life on earth". He clearly has an operative and very lively sense of morals and purpose. "The Blue Bottle" and MANY other stories, poems, and characters manifest that.

Traditional religions seem to come alive again when the unorthodox challenge them. Christ was not a good little orthodox Pharisee. Martin Luther was not a good little orthodox Catholic. For that matter, Erasmus was not a good little orthodox Catholic, either. Yet their religious zeal and sincerity opened new branches of religion and reformed and re-enlived existing ones.

Bradbury has an intense religious sensitivity in his writing. His views may sidestep traditional orthodoxies, but that does not mean he has no sincere search for meaning and purpose.

Actually, I agree with your premise, Mr. Dark. Again, rhetorically speaking, the questions are double-edged.

If we are so blessed as to be able to benevolently share our special spirit or gift with others, than we would should consider ourselves in the hands of God.

As for "that does not mean he has no sincere search for meaning and purpose," is not in doubt. In my view (of that question), he could not! Others may see it "fundamentally" otherwise.

RB's own words may offer a glimpse into his philosophies here:
"Recreate the world in your own image and make it better for your having been here."

"First and foremost, it (writing) reminds us that we are alive and that it is gift and a privilege, not a right. We must earn life once it has been awarded us. Life asks for rewards back because it has favored us with animation."

"When people ask me where I get by imagination, I simply lament, "God, here and there, makes madness a calling."

"Stuff your eyes with wonder. Live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made up or paid for in factories."

Credit: http://www.spaceagecity.com/bradbury/quotes.htm

I find the lives of two other fantasy writing masters as equally interesting (considering their art and religious views): CS Lewis and his friend JRR Tolkien!

Looking back, at things I have written...that is, years ago... I spoke "truth", but had no understanding of what I was talking about. You can say, 'God Is Love'...but to understand theologically what that means ...is absolutely something else....

Like I stated in postings long ago, I met Poul Anderson back in 1970...very fascinating Science Fiction writer, very very fascinating, and I was sure that he must know about God. Gosh, Gee wizz, it seems to vibrate even in his smiling face.

When I asked him about God, he gave me an answer I will remember forever: "Nope! Don't believe there is one...!

I still am amazed, how one can express God, in poetry, eloquent in speech, expressive in paintings, dance, any of the arts...in living each day, polite, kind, but have no idea that He exists.......

Glad you liked my theory, Nard, which IS only a theory. Childhood trauma affects almost everyone, but Ray moreso than most. Wouldn't it be nice to have Ray's own statement concerning these matters? If he does reject conventional religion (which he certainly seems to) it wouldn't rule out a "search for the truth," as you point out, Frank. That search could be more free outside the confines of dogma. It just so happens that many of us believe Christ IS true, and not confined by dogma, or even by considered opinions! We're hoping Ray and others will catch up to that in time. By the way, Mr. Dark, that's "altar call," but as "alter" means to change it's not entirely inappropriate. Nard, that last thing you posted reminded me of one of the shocks of my life, which occurred in early September 2001. One of my favorite teachers, my Junior High English instructor, was killed suddenly just short of his 80th birthday. (As he was killed by a drunk driver, I classify it as a murder, as what's the big whopping difference?) Dale had spent 35 or so years of his life in the instruction of local children--English teacher, boxing coach, and track coach. He had an excellent memory--years afterwards would quote a particular poem I wrote in Junior High--always asking about other people's projects and so on. He said his goal in life was that "when the kids left my class they would have learned something about writing." One of his projects was to have his seventh grade students write where they envisioned themselves in the future, then save the papers to give them on their high school graduation. He got a big kick out of that. After retirement he devoted years to nursing a wife sick with Alzheimer's, to the point where he became seriously ill himself, and continued to visit her after she went in a nursing home, though she showed no signs of knowing who the hell he was. He would always include her in the conversation anyway. Anyhow, I went to the yard sale at his house (after his family arrived, before the memorial service). Another teacher whom I knew to be Catholic was there and I picked up this little image, perhaps an inch and a half high, and asked, "Is this a Saint?" He answered, "Oh, no, Dale had no religious objects of any kind in his home as he and his wife didn't believe in any deity." WHEN I PICKED MYSELF UP OFF THE FLOOR, I said, "Uh-oh, wonder where he is now?" and this man said, "Well, I believe in a forgiving God, and Dale was a very saintly person." He was willing to accept Dale as a sincerely well-meaning person who made a mistake. I went through the house, and he was right, nothing of a religious nature anywhere. Someone suggested a minister to speak at the memorial service, and his kids said, "Oh, no, Mom and Dad wouldn't approve of that." The memorial service was paid for by the Alumni Association--which insisted on the town being able to say good-bye--and held at the Masonic Lodge--not a church. His children were overwhelmed by the outpouring of love displayed by people from 31 years' worth of graduating classes! Put me in mind of the good old parable of the sheep and the goats.

Hmmm. Sorry for the ambiguity. Seems I've had more experience with altering than with altars! Still some altering to go, I would imagine. Perhaps more altaring would be beneficial, also.

In the preface to Bradbury's "A Chapbook for Burnt-Out Priests, Rabbis and Ministers" he has this paragraph:

"I never planned to wind up in a Unitarian pulpit or a Baptist banquet, much less a Catholic seminar at Loyola University, but suddenly there I was, summoned in from the secular outfield to enliven ceremonies that had, by natural course, become somwhat too familiar to the men who wrote to confess they had need of a friend like me with a supply of devotional metaphors in the coatpocket over my secular heart."

He clearly positions himself outside the religious inner circle and identifies himself as someone who, coming in from the outside, is able to bring a new freshness to the religious table. This is not too dissimilar from the American Transcendentalists (Emerson, Thoreau, Parker, Alcott, etc.) who felt that the externalism and dogmatism of religion was rooted in the past and needed to be reinvigorated by new revelation to meet today's needs.

This fear that the church becomes less relevant as it refuses to acknowledge the new is strongly taught by the Transcendentalists, and seems to reflect some of Bradbury's feelings about the religious world.

Emerson wrote:

"Men have come to speak of the revelation as somewhat long ago given and done, as if God were dead. The injury to faith throttles the preacher; and the goodliest of institutions becomes an uncertain and inarticulate voice. . .it is my duty to say to you, that the need was never greater of new revelation than now. . .The great and perpetual office of the preacher is not discharged. Preaching is the expression of the moral sentiment in application to the duties of life." (From Emerson's Harvard Divinity School Address. given July 15, 1938)

Bradbury's poems in "A Chapbook for Burnt-out . . .) are pretty fascinating insights.

Each seems to say something about his views.

In "They Have not seen the Stars" he talks of the idea that the stars are only experienced -- truly experienced -- by man, and that that enjoyment is present tense. The stars let us dream dreams and to seek "to fly with dreams instead of ancient wings".

In another poem, "The First Book of Dichotomy, The Second Book of Symbiosis" he asks the question:

"Einstein? or Christ? My prognosis?
Dichotomy? Symbiosis?
What's clearly seen, or just half-seen?
And man trapped somewhere in-between . . .

Church pew? Pure lab? My last prognosis?Dichotomy or symbiosis?
To pick just one? I find me loathe,
Try this for size;
A bit of both?"

Neither Emerson nor Bradbury seem to feel religion is dead. They seem to fear that it could become dead by not being able to experience inspiration/revelation in the present moment. Their inability to handle religious orthodoxy didn't mean they weren't religious, it just meant that they feared that excessive restictions on thought and lifestyle might cause it to become less "vital". The religious sensibility of both seems very high to me.

Mr. Dark::::::

Tell me....
...of all that beauty from the painter's brush-strokes...
...of all our gifts to speak eloquently and wise...
...and all those wonderful memories from a special moment of time...
...or our being able to open our hand and marvel about the universe, or to consider why we experience this very moment, and not another in all the history of creation...
...to feel the wind change from winter to promises of spring....
...tell me, is all of this... God given?

I ask you...What do we have that... isn't... God given?

Or, what is Hell, but when God withdraws Himself from ourselves?

There is a moment that happens, I can't describe it at this very second, when you suddenly understand truth for the first time. What you find is... truth is unmistakable. A blind man who suddenly could see, wouldn't say he "thought he saw." The experience is unmistakable, fully unique.

My point is....all daydreaming, theories, philosphies, go right out the window when, say, the truth of who Christ is suddenly hits you. All I can say is... it hasn't hit Ray yet. Ray is brilliant, incredibly social, always a joy to be around, serious, an energy factory, endowed with loads of talent.

But still a sinner in need of a Saviour.

I think Ray would acknowledge that all these things you list are God-given. But I think his definition of God would not be the same as a more orthodox definition. The fact that he is concerned about "God" is evident in a very high percentage of his writing. But again, he means something different by "God" than orthodoxy would accept.

Does that mean he doesn't have a valid "handle" on who/what God is? Is his definition (vague though it may be) less significant because it is less orthodox? The driving force of religion seems very real in his work. It was one of the things that turned me on in Martian Chronicles. So many of those stories dealt (sympathetically) with religious issues.

Also, different people have different things they look for in religion. I don't get the impression that Bradbury -- in his religious ponderings -- worries about personal sin (although he seems to be a very ethical person), nor do I think he worries much about hell. Maybe he should, but I don't think he does.

Is religion about avoiding hell and wallowing in ones own sin, or is it about finding heaven and living as good a life as possible? or is this a false alternative? From what I've read in Bradbury and from what I've seen in interviews with him, Bradbury doesn't look to religion because he fears hell or feels terrible about who he is as a person. So what does religion do for him? I think it allows him to experience the wonders and the beauties of this world and keeps him alive to the sense of wonder about life and the creative mechanism.

I think his view of the function of religion is probably not rooted in orthodox concerns about end times, sin, and hell.