I used to go to church as a kid. I didn’t go because I was forced to, I went because I knew it was my moral duty. I knew it was my duty to occupy a seat in a large building for an hour every Sunday. I knew it was my duty to listen to an old man in a shawl read me passages from a book. I knew it was my duty to accept a token of bread and drink from the same goblet of wine as a hundred other people. I knew that’s what God wanted me to do. I also knew that God was in desperate need of my family’s $20 every week.
I used to enjoy professing my faith at church. There was nowhere I would have rather been on Sunday mornings. I also never thought it strange that we would pretend to eat a dead man’s body and drink his blood. I never thought it strange that we would sometimes judge those of other faiths for practicing “bizarre” rituals. We were right. They were wrong.
For me, the cost of faith wasn’t much more than an hour of my time once per week. However, that isn’t the case for everyone. For some, there is much more at stake than the risk of gulping down denture debris from a fellow wine sipper. Sometimes, the cost is much higher than an hour on Sunday mornings.
For some, the cost of faith comes in the form of abuse. Abuse often committed by those held in highest regard. Victims are sometimes afraid to have a voice, preferring instead to suffer in silence. For others, their voices may fall on deaf ears. In the worst cases, victims may be shunned for their accusations, abandoned by friends and family. For a few, their experiences will be considered with the gravity they deserve.
The church is a fascinating entity, continuing to survive through markedly different chapters of human history. It is also fascinating that members rarely view the church through the lens of objectivity. For many of faith, the church is the only aspect of life free from the scrutiny of logic, the only aspect in which sense need not be made. Ironically, the church is oftentimes the aspect of life held most sacred.
Perhaps the church is in fact the pathway to salvation. Perhaps if we believe, we will be granted everlasting life, life beyond our material existence. Perhaps we do need men in shawls to forgive our sins, and perhaps we do need to pay these men to dunk our infants in water to save them from eternal damnation. After all, nobody has yet to prove otherwise.
Or perhaps the church is an outdated social construct whose teachings are force fed to generation upon generation without the scrutiny they deserve. Perhaps the church is nothing more than an old boys’ club that uses its power to abuse the vulnerable while shielding its own from accountability. Perhaps the church is a bully to sheepish people who are too scared to think for themselves, coercing them into sacrificing time and money in exchange for false promises. Perhaps the church seeks nothing more than to strengthen its grip on those who blindly follow.
Or perhaps the church can be viewed as a person. A person who does good, but also does evil. A person who is selfless, but is also selfish. A person who helps, but also needs help. A person who strives for perfection, but will never achieve it. A person who is not immune to pride and ego and their associated vises. A person who exists to ensure the continuation of his existence. Perhaps the church is nothing more than the embodiment of what it is to be human, in all its glory and in all its shame, no holier an institution than you or me.
Life can be difficult for non-believers at times. It can be especially difficult if one’s community is strongly devout. Generally speaking, it’s best to keep your views to yourself. There is no amount of arguing, logic, or reason that will convince a believer to abandon his beliefs. Furthermore, there is very rarely any value in convincing one to do so.
For non-believers, wakes and funerals can be awkward events, especially if their cover has been blown. Agreeing with statements such as “(s)he is with God now” “(s)he is looking down on us” “(s)he is in a better place” can sometimes feel insincere. Furthermore, words of consolation are usually hard to come by. After all, few would appreciate being bluntly told that their loved one is dead and gone forever.
Faith is for some, and is not for others. For the non-believers out there, perhaps the above will serve as a form of validation. For those who “believe,” perhaps the above will provide valuable insight. For those who are devout, please don’t egg my house.
