Although I can’t recall the exact date that the matter took place, I do remember this: I was eating lunch at the Inner Circle located on the second floor of UIC Student Center East. I had an hour and a half of break time before heading to my Journalism class, so I figured that I would grab a quick slice of pizza and review my notes. This was quite a challenge, for my A.D.D. threshold was pushed to its limitations. The combination of obnoxiously loud cafeteria delinquents and bad karaoke contestants up front spouting out alien phonetics foreign to the human ear had worn out the skin of my eardrums.
I envied those around me who were immune to this plague with their iPods handy. Over the weekend, I had accidentally left mine in the front seat of my friend’s car. Yesterday, she sent me taunting text messages telling me how much she enjoyed being able to listen to music in her car again. I felt like Samson when Delilah cut off his hair: my force field that shielded me away from the awkward encounters of the world had momentarily been shut down and I was prone to assault.
Jesus, someone tell me that no one will notice…
I glanced over at the entrance and saw a guy holding a clipboard and wearing a red polo shirt with the name of his church on the right hand corner. He paused momentarily and scanned the room in all directions, hunting his victim like the ferocious bird of prey he was. As his head quickly swiveled towards my direction, my eyes plunged down at my book and I pulled out my phone while pretending to be in the middle of a conversation. Maybe if I acted out a believable dialogue about the homework assignment, this guy will pass me up and torture some other poor schmuck. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to me and asked me a question, interrupting the conversation I was having with myself over the phone.
Shit.
“Do you believe Christianity is the one true religion?” he asked me. I continued to play along with my made-up phone conversation and signaled to him that it would just be a second before I dropped my call and was willing to speak to him.
“I’m sorry, what was your question?” I asked as I smiled and folded up my phone.
“Do you believe Christianity is the one true religion?”
“Honestly, I don’t. I believe the world is composed of many different religions, and I don’t believe that one of them is superior over the other.”
He paused for a few seconds to try and comprehend what I just said. By the stumped look on his face, I could tell that he was either dumbfounded by my answer or was upset with it. He attempted to launch a guilt-ridden counterattack on me by asking me rhetorical questions and trying to make me feel unsure of my beliefs. In making me feel like a lost soul without a purpose, he could brainwash me into his beliefs. I don’t give in so easily and I even if you have me drawn and quartered by a horse-driven chariot you couldn’t get me to say “Uncle.”
This game of tic-tac-toe had been at a stalemate for over twenty minutes. For every “x” that he would throw down, I’d put down an “o” in front of it. I wasn’t looking to prevail as the winner of this debate, but hell, I wasn’t going to lose and let this guy force-feed his beliefs to me and tell me what to do. Besides, isn’t this the reason why Catholics and Protestants, Israelis and Palestinians, Republicans and Jihads, have been at war with each other? They are at constant battle over whose interpretation of the Bible or Koran is right. One says Jesus is the Son of God and the other sees him as a Prophet. Some depict his appearance as haggard and nomadic (considering he did a lot of traveling with his disciples) and others see him as this well dressed man with long brown hair, a beard and blue eyes (even though he is from the Mediterranean.) I’m guessing that depending on the demographic, the image of Jesus is best represented by the nationality of the people. So he is pretty much a box of Crayola crayons. The point is that everyone has a different view of who “God” is.
To some people, "God" appears on their grilled cheese sandwich or as a stain on the wall.
I admit that as I have grown older, my views have slowly transformed. I grew up in a bi-partisan household in which my mother is a Catholic and my father is a Protestant and is also a Mason. I was baptized as a Protestant, but I grew up going to both churches and learning the differences between the two, which believe me, are not very different. They both worship the same god, but one claims that confessions with Priests and Penance will be your ticket to Heaven and the other focuses on a more direct relationship with God but accepts donations. However, my parents never told me one was better than the other or that if I didn’t read the Bible I would go to Hell.
We went to church almost every Sunday when I was young, but as I progressed towards my adolescence, it slowly started to decline. This is not to say that my family became less religious, but maybe this allowed me to have a freethinker’s approach when I became an adult.
On many occasions, I have attempted to read the Bible. What scare me are the many people who build concrete walls around themselves and live in accordance to it. I believe that it’s their own personal choice and if it gives them a sense of purpose and meaning for their lives, I wholeheartedly respect that. When it gets past the point where they feel they have the power to pass judgment on people for their beliefs, that’s where it gets scary.
The other day I saw this painted on a bus stop bench: “The Fear of God is the Beginning of Knowledge.” Why? Shouldn’t we love our gods instead of fear them? After all, they are the ones we confide in and trust during unavoidable moments of darkness. If fear were the vehicle that drives our motivation to worship our gods, then I’d rather park it and walk through the unknown searching for answers. Isn’t this how we go about answering the meaning of life after all? Each passing day presents us with a new puzzle piece that we never knew about life and ourselves, and the puzzle is finally complete when we die. Or in some cases, it isn’t.
This is not to say that I am a Nihilist. I feel that my beliefs are split up into two categories: I am “culturally” Protestant, but “spiritually” Agnostic. Therefore, I am an "Agnostant." I was raised and baptized as a Protestant, and I do adopt their belief in a direct relationship with God. However, I don’t know what my god looks like and I question the Bible’s precision and validity of what is written. There are so many versions that I’m sure that something was added or deleted through the march of time.
If I am certain about something, it’s this:
1.) My God allows same sex marriages. It believes all men and women were created equal, and not just in a written document.
2.) My God doesn’t support war, and It doesn’t approve to Its name being used for the glorification of violence acts against humanity. If someone were to call out Its name before slaughtering people because they don’t agree with them or they want something for their own personal greed, It will turn Its back on them and let them perish.
3.) My God hasn’t labeled me a Sinner at birth. My God is positive. When I have done something wrong, my conscience and morals tell me. My God only offers the comfort, strength and understanding to encourage me to be a better person.
Nice, it's really too bad more people can't think like you. I like the quote too, "the fear of God is the beginning of knowledge". My life would lead me to interpret it differently, but it's thought provoking and that's important.
ReplyDelete