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Near the point where your dreams languish and before your thoughts fade in, exists a

place between our world and theirs. In this intersection of consciousness is where I lay
disturbed and unpolished by four words surreptitiously uttered in the silence: "I'm
Struggling with theism" (technically five words). The mid-morning light percolates
through my studio and I decide to linger in bed and indulge in an undeclared amount of
time to vet. After about 2 hours I come to the realization that while I was born ignorant
and raised a Protestant Christian, I am an agnostic by design and a cynic by necessity.

I suppose I have been struggling with theism for the past 3-4 months (+/- 27 years).
Theism refers to the belief of a god or god(s) that is unique, personal and governing.
Every intelligent cell in my body acknowledges a divine architect or an omniscient
creator. Even string and m-theorists agree that the way our universe operates cannot be
explained by chance or randomness - that there is a specific design. But I misstep when I
am forced to reconcile the fact that this "creator" adopts a psyche, thus exhibiting human
characteristics such as love and jealousy, and with temperament. Some may argue that I
am struggling with Christianity instead. The difference may seem semantic, but is
fundamental.

I'm not concerned with how I label myself or how to etch out an alignment, but am
actualizing an anxiety conceived from a line of incorrigible questioning. That's the
problem with the Socratic method - it always ends up at the same place - more questions.
My line of questioning evolved as something like this:

"Should the bible be taken literally?"


"If not, then is the 'word of God' completely authentic?"
"If not, then should we accept and abide by the all the preachings and stories?"
"If not, then why must I be BORN a sinner?"
"If not, then does Christianity even function w/o the concept of original sin?"
"If not, then how many portions were omitted or lost that can ultimately change the entire
structure of the faith?"

Then I started wondering why I was so convicted (which remains authentic in its
experience) for Jesus and a faith centered around original sin, guilt, salvation and
worship. It all seems so contrived. Then I thought of my Muslim friend's conviction in his
faith; which is definitely more than me with mine.

"Why is Christianity the absolute truth while Judaism and Islam CANNOT be? and vice
versa?"
"Is it possible that the Abrahamic faiths survived through a natural selection of tribal
wars?
"Is the Bahá'í Faith closer to the truth than the rest?"

The earliest human history dates back to 2.5 million years ago - Early Stone Age. The
earliest known civilizations are only 25,000 years old and Judaism only dates back to
about 2000 BCE. Chinese dynasties date back to ~ 2100 BCE and I'm sure none of them
were Jewish for at least a couple thousand years; nor Christian nor Muslim. So does that
mean entire civilizations over the entire human history's faith and convictions were
INCORRECT thus doomed for eternity? How do I reconcile with a god that doomed 2.5
million years worth of human lives and souls to start choosing a tribe to favor - then send
too many prophets to too many disparate groups of people and then watch them kill each
other over worshiping the same deity? If it is inherently human to require structure,
organization, a validation of right vs. wrong, and boundaries, then does it not make sense
that religion served as that original structure to govern society? Who are we to tell
Shamans from Polynesian Islands and African tribes that their thousands of years of faith
and conviction is primitive, pagan and wrong? Isn't religion the earliest answer to
anarchy?

After asking these questions, I am left utterly exhausted and brain-frozen, but find hope
in the clutter. When I clean that mess away in one fell swoop, I hope that I will be able to
come to an accord with which I am comfortable and of which I am truly convicted, even
if I am ultimately led to my starting point. Because then, at least, I will be able to claim
that it was MY choice and I came to it logically with an unfiltered conviction - free of
influence from family, peers, the media and most importantly the 27 years of Christian
programming. My blank slate allows me one truth: I can distinguish my mind, body and
soul - and I know that without any one of these, the other two will surely die. With that, I
embark on my journey to find the proverbial man behind the curtain.

First Stop: The Roman Catholic Church

Being raised a Presbyterian and learning what the history books record of the painful and
bloody history of the protestant reformation, I always approached Catholicism as being
ritualistic, detached and promoting an arithmetical salvation or paradise. After recently
attending a Catholic mass on Palm Sunday, my original sentiments were confirmed.
Everything from the Gothic architecture to the methodical service was celebrated in its
structure. The immensely dark and neutral cathedral from the outside demanded
reverence from all who entered its heavy doors. Inside the building, statues of saints,
impossibly high ceilings bolstered by their flying buttresses, and stained glass images of
biblical lore connected each one of us in a common sense of abasement. We were here as
a solemnly humbled congregation to worship a god that was just that - a god. Not a
father, lover or friend. The god of the Catholic Church was impersonal - almost
amusingly different from the one of a protestant church. The Catholic god was a being of
detached superiority, to the point where the priest (or the anointed vessel of that god) was
the conduit to him. The papal figure is an immaculate (or the closest derivative) version
of ourselves. I felt that we as humans, instinctively dirty sinners, were infinitely separated
from that perfect god. During the bible readings, the priest spoke as God or Jesus while a
separate patron narrated the story and the congregation responded as the rest of the
characters - usually sinners, misfits and Pharisees. Another eye-opening point of the
service was the entire year's services were predetermined, probably from the Vatican.
Each Sunday service was dated and hinged on Christ's life, death and resurrection - or the
Gospels. The Old Testament readings were peppered into each service as colorful
excerpts to support the Gospel and the week's message.
Besides the incessant cycle of kneeling, sitting, standing and repeat, I was surprisingly
appreciating and respecting the Catholic faith. I could see how millions of people
attending the same mass at the same time (or day at least) provided a sense of something
larger than oneself. I believe this was the most significant point I took away from my
experience. The medieval structure of the building, decor and style of worship in-turn
fostered a grandiose sense of their god. The god was removed from my person. He was a
being to be worshiped, revered and sacrificed for - almost tribal and primitive. But the
truth was that these people craved and reveled in that. We all covet that to some degree.
We long for boundaries, rules, traditions and rituals because they provide clear lines of
order from chaos. Humans are either leaders or followers - both need organization to
exist.

Catholics seem to be, by design or practice, "older souls". There was a comfort in the
monotony of the chanting and the soporific singing of the Psalms and hymns - it felt as if
we were bridging the gap between God and man through ancient dialects or angelic
tongue. Overall I enjoyed the perception of antiquity and historical relevance the Catholic
church provided, but am still not convinced that their god actually desires or cares for the
whole dog and pony show at all. My mind comprehended the faith, my body followed the
motions, but my soul remained disconnected to the NEED for their god. What if the
entire human consciousness is "serving" the same god, but we just happen to manifest our
own easily digestible versions?

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