without the ackward silence

without the ackward silence

michelle

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The small used book store has Roald Dahl. Hm ... I wonder if he was an atheist too.

[Dec. 20th, 2009|10:50 pm]

[	Tags	\|	atheism, church, family	]
[	Current Location	\|	Harkers Island, NC at Brad the Pastor's parsonage	]

I am in Harkers Island North Carolina. Today is Sunday. I am staying with Hunter the Boyfriend, Chelsey the Chemist (sister) and Brad the Pastor (dad). It's been a pretty eventful day that has largely revolved around the church atmosphere - from physically sitting inside to caroling a Harll around Harkers Island, while handing out Chelsey's freshly-made Grandpas Bread to some of the members of the Methodist Church.

It's been quite some time since I've been in a church. This morning - after a short run and breakfast - we attended the Sunday Service before Christmas. My goal during this experience was to portray two emotions: respect and interest. I think I succeeded; though there were times whenever I was listening to the reasonably long cantata that I wanted to laugh out loud - partly because of one member of the choirs solo; partly due to the incredibly ridiculous lyrics; there was the mudane, sort-of-morose tone to the ensemble singing; and then it is still baffling to me how easily people are manipulated into believing the most abusrd ideas. On that last note, it interests me to go into church's nowadays, but I always view them from the eyes of one looking at a museum. So naturally, when I see a group of people all congregated on a Sunday to practice these antediluvian symbols and traditions.

If this doesn't make sense, imagine someone taking an already-deceased, store-bought chicken breast and placing it before an alter. Then a robed man walks onto a stage next to the chicken with a pitcher and pours pureed cranberry sauce on top of the chicken. Everyone else sits around the spectacle - some yarn, some watch with reverence, others are small children that talk or cry because they don't know nor care what the heck is going on. The robed man stabs the chicken vehemently with a large, narrow knife and exclaims, "Joy be to Whimwam! We stand here before you in the name of Whimwam and eat this bloody brute in remembrance of his great battle that has lead us to the glory of today. Dear Whimwam, we thank you for everyone here." He cuts the symbolic, meat-lover's delight for the congregation to eat. The place is decorated with all sort of symbols, like gators, chickens, sunflowers, flamingos and behind the alter, in the middle of the wall hangs a large symbol that looks like a metal, gold-painted lightning bolt or an archaic exclamation point.

This is the kind of how I feel. It's not meant as an insult, just an extreme lack of understand of how people can be so easily drawn to something that makes no sense to me or would make sense to any sensible person had it not been drilled into their psyche from a young age. In brief, I just don't get it. This is why the respect and interest is not simply meant to create a healthy impression on the members of the congregation (since I did arrive with Pastor Brad), but that - in truth - I am trying not create an intellectual barracade for myself by passing the whole thing off as simply ridiculous. Obviously, people are still buying into this sort of lifestyle; I'm simply trying to get a better handle on the why part of it all.

From what I have seen, the details of religion in the new generation have become less and less important and seen simply as symbols (what they are). There is less stress - just with the people I've spoken with in the past (not in NC) - with the dialogue of the hymns and verses, not to be taken literally; they are metaphors meant to be more catholic than if taken as direct truths.

I would like to explain "not in NC" to you. I'm in midst of practically family here and simply as a general rule, I make a point not to discuss religious matters with family members that if I think that it will be greatly detrimental to our future relationship; otherwise, I am as open about being a proud atheist as possible. This may seem like a contradiction and maybe it is, but this battle I do not choose to take on currently. Maybe if I had more of a reason, I would. My mother knows is displeased, would rather me not talk about anything having to do with matter and so I give her that courtesy. My grandmother knows even though I've never said it to her directly (like with my mother); I've let her read enough of my atheist-influenced writing and had enough atheist-driven discussions for her to guess it. Brad the Pastor assumes so and is probably not surprised given his son is one. Everyone else is on a you-are-more-than-welcome-to-ask or need-to-know-basis; Which one of the two categories my kin fall into is generally dependent on their age. Meaning once you're past a certain age, there's really no point in going there.

Bed time.

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