I will pray for you

Christian missionaries stand in the middle of red square, signs propped against knees, “Marrying a divorced woman is adultery!” One sign proclaims boldly, white on black. “Accept Jesus as you savior” says another, citing a relevant bible quote. One man is active as I approach. An Abrahanic face animated by belief. He’s talking to a woman, a teacher by her look carrying a huge painting of acupressure points with glowing energy and crazy colors. It’s a good match. I stand and listen.

As they talk another girl approaches. I’ve run into her a few times. I believe we’ve been introduced. I know she’s lesbian or at the very least bi. Soft spoken. Her name is Kamilla - my name had I been a girl - and when she dances she moves around the entire room with her elbows, entire body bobbing to the beat. I like her. The woman moves aside to let her in, turning to me. We half chat, half listen as Kamilla speaks.

She asks about sin and punishment, skirting, always skirting, on the probable reason they were here on the college campus the day after the election, and gay marriage passed. She wondered if people who did not believe what the Christians did were going to hell. He spoke of living in accordance with what the small voice of conscience tells you is right. She agrees. He speaks of Jesus and his love, she listens. She tells him she is glad she came over, because even though they do not share beliefs, and a lot of what he says is difficult for her to hear, it is important for both of them to be able to see each other as human, and respect that.

Why are we here? I ask. God has chosen not to reveal the entirety of his plan. He has given us commandments, we must go forth and multiply, we must keep his moral rule, and so perhaps those are parts of what we can only speculate on. But in the end it is not given to us to know. He speaks with certainty. I nod. I’m in an uncertain place spiritually right now. Suddenly he is interested.

I tell him about Dry Falls and my experiences there. Climbing the cliff - looking out over the vastness and feeling the limitation of my belief. I tell him about the cairn, and gesture, exaggerating - this wide and this tall. I wonder what moves me to lie about its size. I tell him about my thoughts with my back against it. About my inability to see a divine plan. He explains that while we do not know why we are here it is very clear what we must do. Our purpose is to refrain from sin.

That’s one thing I have never understood, I tell him. Christianity is very good - the best perhaps - at dealing with sin, yet sin is only one aspect of the broad frame of human experience. It is this limitation that drives me away from Christianity. I cannot conceive of a creator who is not as multifaceted as the biological world we live in. I am pagan because in this world there is never one of anything. So why one god? He protests. The Christian conception of God is that of an unknowable God. More majesty in Him then the entire world ten times over. God contains within Him all of creation and all that complexity.

It reminds me of what I’m learning in class right now. Scale. You look at God as a whole, and call Him one - I look at God in all his parts and call Him many, yet we are still looking at the same God, only from different scales. He can agree with that. So if there are so many ways to see God why do we insist on having only one religion to do so?  In order to understand the biological world we could not just have physics. Physics can explain everything perhaps, yet in order to interact with it and understand in detail, we need botany, biology, geography, and Zoology. Sometimes we need something as distinct as entomology, sometimes as broad as chemistry. It’s the same physical world yet we need all these different angles to understand it.

And religions are the same. Let us call Christianity physics. It’s important. It’s self-defining. Often it thinks it can define the world by itself. But it can’t. In order to get the whole picture we need Daoism, Buddhism, Islam, Shinto, Voodoo, and Dreamtime too. Sure physics is indispensable, but what a shame it would be to lose the study of insects just because they have mass, weight and velocity. Sure, Christianity has lessons to teach, but not at the expense of something else.

He admits that before he was a born again Christian he took a lot of wisdom and guidance from the Tao te Ching, but he’s discovered that there are problems in skipping around and drawing only what you want. Christianity is an exclusive faith. If you chose it, you disavow all other paths. You cannot straddle the path of light and a lesser path all at the same time. He goes on to talk about sin, and how refusing it must be unequivocal. Imagine a bank robber, he says. Who gives up bank robbing but keeps all his equipment in his attic. He tells everyone he’s through with his criminal acts, yet in his heart he knows that any time he could go back.

The only way for a sinner to give up their bank robbing equipment and be fully redeemed is by accepting Jesus Christ. He tells me. I blink. I followed thus far, but this twist is a disconnect where his beliefs and mine do not mingle. I tell him this. He seems unperturbed. The Bible tells us that true Christians are a very small elite. Most people will never reach that point. The other man who has been listening chimes in the relevant bible quote. I notice him for the first time.

We talk more about sin and morality, I continually hinting at my own. "What is it?" He speaks with the authority of a Jewish prophet. I tell him. He thinks sex out of marriage is wrong in of itself. I think marriage is more symbolic of love and commitment than the physical act of getting married. My mother and step dad call each other husband and wife even though not officially married, because of that symbolic tie. We talk more. He tells me that he is a father of three children, and in that relationship he has begun to understand God. He loves his children with all his heart, unconditionally and a piece of that love is that he is their teacher. When they transgress he admonishes them and sets them right again, because that is the most loving thing that he can do. God, he says, does the same for us and our sins. A boy walks by and kicks his sign. He bends down and straightens it again, resting it against his knees.

I feel the pull of it. The power of the archetype. God as father, Christ as older brother leading the way for me to feel clean again. I feel the power of my own beliefs - God as biological world, religions as the study of that world. The endless learning and growth my views help build. He feels them to, and perhaps he might waver and accept given time, yet his own life has led him irrevocably to this path. He tells me he how he was full of sin, and Christianity was the way in which he overcame that sin. He cannot waver, my beliefs crash against him like the tide but he stands firm an unwavering stone. Will you accept Jesus Christ? He asks. No.

I will do what I always do. I will take of your beliefs what I can and add them to my own. Perhaps you are right and I must accept more of the divine into my life to absolve me of this transgression. I do not know where I stand right now, but as the water of doubt crashes through my psyche it is good to see that some mighty stones remain. We will see what grows from that. It is time for him to go. "What is your name?" He asks. "I will pray for you."

Reviews

[mattavelli]

Hello, Pan! :)
This was an interesting read. I haven't had this type of conversation in a long time. I view sin as fiction and christianity as a disease of the mind. Thanks for sharing.