Monday, December 6, 2010

Under the Blanket

Sometimes I question the truth about God & this blanket religion (Try & think of how many denominations & belief systems fall under the blanket of "Christianity"). I feel as though in order to follow Jesus & walk heavenward with His merry band of "Christians" , I have to throw a blanket over myself too. Its heavy, hot & scratchy under here... I trip ocassionally because its hard to see where I'm going... but this is walking by faith, right?

Am I being led by faith or hearsay? Do I have faith in God or in stories & traditions passed down through countless generations? No one knows how the earth was formed. Evolution tells us organisims crawled out of the sea & eventually sprouted appengages & became cows, monkeys & men. Who was around to know? It sounds absolutely ridiculous to me... What about the Garden of Eden & Noah's Ark? Who reported the play by play? These things sound ridiculous as well. But for some reason, I believe them over evolution... Truth or hearsay? Maybe it really is relative.

Sometimes I bump into another blanket-wearer. We exchange niceties & drift somewhere else among the mob... When we talk, we talk through the blanket. When we "fellowship", its through the blanket. I don't see them, they don't see me & we don't see those around us. The outside world- those "heathens" are but voices & images in our minds... Its like listenening to the narration of a museum exhibit. We are blinded by our blankets of opinion & belief, but walk through & nod our heads... Fascinating. Riveting. Sad. And then we leave, blankets firmly fixed. They've grown heavier, as have our eyelids. We sleep. No one will know... Until someone trips over us.

I've tripped over many a sleeper on my journey... no doubt I've caused a few to stumble myself. And when I wake up, I instinctively throw off my blanket... to the horror & shame of the other blanket wearers around me. They still can't see me. They're hindered by the fabric of their faith... But they know because I ask why everyone is wearing a blanket. They mutter hearsay, they know something's different about me... I've been exposed... Some run in fear, some gather around me & try to cover me with their blankets until my own is found. I begrudgingly pull it up over my head. I let it cascasde down around me, get up off my knees & walk. Its heavy, hot & scratchy under here. I still can't see. But better to be hidden than picked off by predators or worse, than being alone...

Or so its been said... but it could just be hearsay.

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