Like a fire
I want to talk about something that I don’t usually discuss; at least, I don’t talk about it online. It’s not something entirely unknown about me, but religious beliefs, (or the lack thereof) aren’t things I believe in sharing. It’s like talking about politics - if people ask me, then I’ll tell them, but I’m not open with it. Right now, though, I’m going to be a hypocrite and throw it all out the fucking window, because last night was something so strange to me that I need to get it out.
I’m start out simply.
I am…nothing, really, when it comes to religion. I used to, once upon a time, think that I was an atheist. I don’t think that’s true at all; I think that I’m searching. A short time after that, I thought myself to be agnostic, and while I’m probably closest to that belief, I don’t think it suits me as well as something unnamed. I am not Roman Catholic, however, like the rest of my family. I’m not a huge supporter of organized religions and their money markets. I can say, however, that not being like the rest of my family has imparted some rift between us, because my mother insists on introducing me to strangers as, “Jason, my heathen son.” hoping that said strangers will understand that she holds me apart from her. It’s not derogatory to me; I don’t really pay attention to it anymore, but to her, I’m a heathen. According to HER beliefs, I’m a heathen. I’ve been called worse, but not in religious context.
Example: I’ve been referred to as Lucifer, and the anti-Christ, and both times were in jest. She doesn’t joke. She’s very, very serious. Moving on.
I stand on the foundation of very little belief, outside of the belief in human spirit, and the belief in achievement through the knowledge of mortality, and simple beliefs like that that everything can and does adhere to. When it comes to faith in god, or religion, though, I can’t seem to pick it up. I outthink the idea of it, and chalk its flaws up to what they really are - flaws. And I know that everything has a fault somewhere, but I analyze the hell out of religion. I’ve read holy texts from several walks of life, and they’re all ridiculously similar, and they’re all impressive to read, and most have exciting stories and ideas, but I can’t help but think that they’re just ideas. And I wish that I had more faith, because people seem to draw so much strength from it; I RESPECT it.
I really do. The ability to have faith, I think, in something greater than yourself is one of the noblest, (if not ridiculous, in my case, I suppose) things that I’ve ever seen. I’m envious.
Moving along.
Last night, I was being a huge fucking nerd and playing an online game. One of those kinds of things where you run around like a crazed, elven knight and kill the hell out of everything that opposes you. Likewise, this particular game has a chat, capable of allowing two people to talk on a one-on-one basis. That’s how it started. I was talking to a man about characters, and this and that, and he mentioned named a character ‘Armageddon’ because of the implications religiously. He had said that it’d interest him to play a character named ‘Apollyon’ but it felt morally and ethically wrong to him, being Christian. I told him, more or less in passing, that I was raised Roman Catholic, and that I didn’t like the traditions or the way they instill guilt at a young age; everything is wrong, and everything has a price, and I didn’t like the way it felt. It felt made up.
He went on to tell me about his beliefs, and to note something important, his spelling was HORRIBLE. Absolutely atrocious, but he was SMART in the ways of theology, so I let it go. The boy was not stupid, and I could take that on an even level even if he couldn’t type. Neither outweighed the other - if he were STUPID and couldn’t type well, I’d probably be done with him.
He then went on to tell me about how his mom’s been teaching him, since a very young age, about some experimental religions that have opened his eyes - theories about werewolves being demons, (which seems curiously plausible, were their existence every actually documented…which I have a hard time believing anyway) and how evolution theories were true, but were true because of god, and it got creepier from there. About how all other religious texts lie profusely, and about the cruelty of certain things cited as being benevolent - and then he gave me a link to a website. And the first thing that sprang to mind was that it felt like a cult. It seemed so hokey, and people took to it with such fervor and belief that it frightened me. Absolutely frightened me.
I talked to the boy some more, and he continued to tell me what his mother had told him, and I asked him if he went to any kind of christian school. He replied that he’d been home schooled since he was young, and likewise that he couldn’t read or write very well. He said that he gets most of his information by listening to tapes. We talked awhile more, about the moral implications of his faith against others, and how his belief is strong and solid a foundation because he knows that he’s close to god, and I asked him his age. I don’t usually do it online, because it doesn’t feel write; I feel like a stalker, but I was curious, and my nature wins out eventually.
He was fifteen.
And my heart broke. I felt human; SO FUCKING HUMAN, and I wanted to take that boy, and shake him, and tell him to live his life for himself. To learn to read and write better, and to believe in what HE feels is right, and not what he’s force-fed, and to GO TO SCHOOL to get opposing views, and live a life of questions, and fear, and hope, and love. And hate, but you know what? I’d rather see a scarred and ruined world every goddamn day of my life then see one with blinders on, and that’s what the boy’s doing, and my fucking heart breaks for him. I WANT to help him, and show him that life isn’t contained like that - that you can learn things for yourself, because he’s such a SMART kid. He astounded me with his knowledge of theology, and I felt sadder and sadder with every reference made to his mother, who obviously taught him everything SHE believed, and I know that parents do it with their kids everyday, but I recognize frightening zealotry, and I don’t know that he even had a CHOICE in being force-fed bullshit and practically locked away from the world.
And all I wanted to do was help him. And I can’t, because the boy HAS faith, and I can’t be responsible for shaking it. I don’t have a right to ruin it, because faith gives people so much strength, and so much resolve, even if it’s the WRONG kind of faith. And it’s a fucking day later, and I’m still thinking about it, and I can’t shake the feeling.
I feel real. I can’t remember the last time that I really, honestly and truly wanted to help someone.
I hope he grows up to live for himself, and he does so happily. I feel like he deserves it - a hell of a lot more than I do, and most of the people that I know. He deserves it.