Some people are quick to ridicule faithful religious adherents. But me? I envy them. Envy the ability to believe that there is something out there just for you – a plan or a specific place. Its comforting aspect cannot be overstated. The mental peace that comes with having a direction for your life is amazing. I know. I used to believe. Strongly. Wholeheartedly.
And though I don’t regret where I am now, sometimes I wish for simpler times. Complete faith. It reminds me of childhood – how my parents took care of everything – clothing, food, shelter. I may have wanted more or different stuff, but my basic physical needs were met without me worrying about them. They just were there.
It was this great community that I belonged to. It gave me an identity, an instant support group, friends. Kind of like a gang. It was a constant thing. I could go to church every week and if I wanted more Wednesday and Friday nights too. I could participate in a culture that I was a part of. There was a wonderful sense of belonging and love. Even if I didn’t get along with everyone and vice versa we all shared something in common – our faith.
And now, life is more complicated. I used to think the phrase “ignorance is bliss” was the most ridiculous statement ever. But I get it. I can’t change how I feel, what I know or who I am. I can go through the motions, but the connection is gone.
I still like going to church. Not for the sermons (no offense to my pastor friends!) but because of the fellowship. It’s nostalgic, comforting, and fun. Provides the familial aspect that I miss. I even wanted to get involved at one point – teach Sabbath school – but then I realized that it’s more than slightly hypocritical to teach what you don’t really believe. And so I don’t. But it’s hard.
Especially the friends’ part. You always expect opposition from your parents – completely normal. But when your friends say they’re worried and praying for you? Lol…it’s a totally different experience. Still, I completely appreciate it. And the amazing thing? My parents are more supportive than some of my friends. Who knew?
I still pray – though sometimes it’s more like talking to myself and hoping someone is listening. I haven’t completely given up on the idea of God. If I’m scared, deliriously happy, or just plain miserable I reach out. The truth is I don’t know whether He or She or It exists in the way I was taught. I have serious doubts. Same thing naturally extends to heaven or hell. Seems more likely that it’s been taught for centuries to keep people in line, behave a certain way for reward or escape retribution.
I don’t want to do something because I’m scared or want a crown and my own mansion. I want to do it because it’s the right thing to do. And I think that’s where religions are great – pretty much all of them have the same basic moral code – be good to your fellow man. That’s great stuff. Unfortunately it doesn’t just stop there.
Maybe I’m too blessed. Too educated. Too jaded. Have had too much time to think about it. Maybe I need to have an uber traumatic experience to bring me back into the fold. I probably have to hit rock bottom or the bottom of the barrel or something to realize the truth. I certainly don’t have the answers. I feel unsettled, uncomfortable, and slightly scared about where my life is going. It would be so much easier if I just believed like I used to.
But I don’t.
