The Mask of Faith
I usually dreaded church. I found it boring, non-beneficial, and mostly irritating. It was the people I found irritating, for most of them were pretentious- always coming to church but never really bettering their souls. They usually acted like a bunch of vampires, sucking the life out of each other, but never getting satisfied. This reminded me of my dream, or should I say my “travelling experience” the night before. The creatures on the dimension Geeshgawoodiooki, also wanted to be full at all times, but instead of stealing from each other, they cooperated to make sure everyone was full.
Being at church was like an illusion because there were all these people looking for answers, and wanting to be filled, but they stole the fulfillment of others to get it. Of course this never worked, since most people left feeling even worse than when they walked in. These people claim to be there for God and to get help from him but I didn't believe this. To me it was more of a social game for them. They went to make themselves feel better and get the latest gossip. Don't get me wrong, there were a few that took this time to reflect on themselves, their lives and what they can do better. These people looked to God, or what they say is God anyways.
It was also sad to see that so many of them were using God as a distraction from their problems, and as a way out of taking responsibility for their actions. My mother fell under this category. I could hear bits and pieces of my mother’s prayers. They often had to do with her addiction and she asked for guidance to raise her children. But then this was often followed with several excuses as to why she has not made any changes, and blames her misfortunes on God.
My father, on the other hand, only pretended to pray; just like he pretended to be a good father, and pretended to be a stand up citizen. He was a complete fraud. I could say that my mother, my siblings, and I are the only ones that really know who he is but that wouldn’t even be accurate. The “bad” man act seemed be just as much as a lie as the “good” man act. I never know what is going on in his mind, and probably never will. A part of me wishes I could know, but mostly I am glad that I do not. I am too scared to know the truth. It is bad enough knowing what he is capable of doing to his family; I wouldn’t want to know what kind of sick things went through his mind.
Church was a whole new experience for me today. Instead of observing everyone and trying to listen to what the priest was saying and trying to make sense of it, I just went inwards, and silenced my mind. I never thought to do this before, but today it was simply my natural reaction. So instead of leaving the church feeling confused, drained, and irritated, I felt relaxed and even happy.
After Church, there was always a huge get together at the local restaurant for lunch. I was tempted to sneak away, as usual, but I figured I shouldn't today, since my father seemed more on edge than usual. So, instead, I waited it out, and tried to block out all the mindless chatter by focusing on the beautiful view out the window. It was the only thing I loved about the restaurant. I could see the peaks of glory and clear blue sky cascaded behind it. The sun shined even more luminously, creating fairy dust that bounced off the snow. I pictured myself at my special tree, feeling glad that I would be there soon.