Our lives and the Religious Contract
Being in church scares me. I cannot begin to tell you if it is the curtailed little pieces of new leaves that we turn to every new Sunday at Sermons or if it is the in born understanding and silent agreement of the existence of somebody else beyond us that make us turn to our quiet selves every hour or so at least once every week in our calendar years. It is completely beyond my understanding why in this never ending search of new ways to alleviate our seemingly incessant run-ins with trouble and hardships that we eventually turn to a congregation which we never ever had a choice over.
In my quest for happiness and near perfection of my lopsided Catholic upbringing I really fail to understand why we need to ascertain the quality of our experiences and our not so distant pasts and for no reason whatsoever benchmark the whole sum of experiences to codes and etiquettes that were formed two thousand years ago. The world is unending and the only thing closer to the finish line is our lives rather than the resources and all the iron ore reserves that the world has in store for us and our ever improving lifestyles. I sometimes wonder why is it that there was revelation and tangible proofs of the existence of God only 3000 years ago and why is it that even archaeologists find it necessary to go to church after excavating an entire dinosaur from their backyards.
We humans are a strange lot. Much as we know that the only reason why we are here is because our planet is just the right distance away from the sun and the little bacteria and early life-forms were plain lucky and our ancestors really found joy in intercourse and the outcome of such acts then were forgivable. Who was to know that 4.55 billion years after the formation of earth, we’d have a whole lot of stretched face people called Chinese to really populate the earth so much and build a whole wall around them that was actually visible from the moon! Either it was really big money to have intercourse in China or almost all of them were Catholics. For those of you who didn’t know, Catholics are not allowed to use protection and abortion is a grave sin. A Catholic priest visiting over-populated families would praise the family heads for such a proud amount of progeny and call a Presbyterian family with the same amount of children Sex maniacs.
Now, going back to revelations and tangible proofs, it never ceases to amaze me to think about what ever happened to the Supreme Power showing Himself or Herself to old bearded men with tablets of stone. That was more than three thousand years ago and there are millions of generations of people who have passed away and who are still being born now. So people then worshipped idols and had harems where alcohol flowed and sex was an absolute must. When you come to think of it now, we need the same bearded men with tablets now more than ever before. At least there was no Internet three thousand years ago. From the way it seems, in the old days, when you commit a wrong, you really need to be very worried because it was so certain that somebody from up above will really skin your hide after a few weeks. Then, if you happened to be a rich person and also happened to be a little on the bad side, you’ve had it. Then, for something terrible that you did to your people, you’d have snakes and toads and other reptiles fall from the sky and also have an entire river turn wine red. Now, it’s simpler than that. You commit a wrong and you have next Sunday to repent. Now, all you have to do is really pray that for the wrong that you did nothing adverse is going to happen to you. At least as long as you’ve paid your life insurance premiums, you’re covered.
Still-what is it that makes us close our eyes in times of pain and talk to ourselves in stressed whispers and quiet desperations? For this, we humans are again, a strange lot. There is nothing that soothes the tiny little upturns of upsets in our lives than a visit to the Chapel. We have absolutely no proof of the existence of God and yet, there is nothing more visited in the Internet, or in TV, or in real life as visits to our quiet abode in our personal spaces, otherwise known as Prayers.
There was a priest in Church this evening harping on about the goodness of God and the infinite love that He has for us. It perplexed me. Was the man serious or was he completely out of his mind? The only closest that he has ever been to God was the vows he took when he was ascribed an official Catholic Priest. And much as the ascription was on the record, the part about him getting close to God is really, really off the books.
The wonder of prayer and God is only as deep as our will to give in to the idea of God and prayers. The magic of prayer and absolution is something that is always and will always be an effect that will raise debates. To my family and friends, prayer is a holy and purposeful act of communication and acknowledgement of the presence of something way more powerful and perspicacious than us mortals in our infinite wisdom and understanding. To me, most of the time, prayer is more like a working wonder drug that somehow releases stress and keeps me in touch with what I am and who I represent on the face of the Earth. I have often noticed that prayers, unlike requests on the Radio, most of the times go unanswered. And as most things human, one would expect you to go ballistic and on a tour of crazy outbursts of rage and disposition, and really no one blames you for that. To a person attuned to prayers and all ways religious, prayers unanswered are simply a test that the one above puts you through and the more patient and peaceful you are, you will certainly have your reward- mind you- not on this earth; in this lifetime- but after you die: a place and condition nobody in this forsaken mudball has ever experienced and come out alive. To me, sometimes, this idea of religion and gods and prayers is really a shady contract that we sign a few months after birth; say on Baptism, on the day of christening, in order for all of us to not feel bad about shelling little bits of money every Sunday to somehow manage to make such religious congregations survive the face of time.
I’ve lived in a world where a lot of good things happen and a lot of bad things also take place. I’ve lived long enough to know that I cannot put my entire faith in God and walk down a really dark alley while at the same time having wads of currencies stick out of my pockets and believe that I will not be mugged. 29 years into life and church and television, I still wonder what the average street magician in Jerusalem (and other towns that Jesus stayed in and performed miracles in), had to go through. 29 years into life and an odd twelve to fifteen years in relationships, I still wonder how a fiancé would react to news of Immaculate Conception. 29 years into life and somewhere around twelve years into work and investment, I still wonder how anyone could be stupid enough (or visionary enough) to actually leave all assets and liabilities and actually follow a stranger in thick robes and sandals to god knows where or what.
This is the new age of information and intellect and we live in a world which gets smarter and smarter with each and every new morning. What does it take for Divine Intervention, really, to wake us up from our lethargic and duty bound Sundays and talks about Scriptures and Holy Books that some group of secret authors inked thousands of years ago. 29 years into my life and really, it is only on each blessed Sunday that I seek somebody who nobody has ever proved to exist. And the loopholes in the contract of religions really prohibit and safeguard exemplary and astute studies into such myth shattering theories. There are really no signs of evil stopping and the Commandments are a thing of the past. Everybody loves adultery and kids curse their parents. Depression is on a rise and murders are sensational. Everyone lives in a neighborhood where the neighbor has really pretty and desirous wives. Money is stolen online and molesters say prayers before every supper.
The world was a much better place two thousand years ago and it is really a matter of concern that God would not have at least three sons to tackle existence and endurance in the human race.
Tomorrow is a brand new day and as is customary for someone suffering from diseases that I live with, I have to pop Amlodipine Nebivolols and Escitaloprams and Atorlips and Clonotrils and THEN say a teeny weeny silent prayer just after a good dose of sunscreen and step out of the house, life insurance premiums paid, and valid.
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