The Student and The Monk, Cont.

My previous post, written this morning, was a tale of spiritual exploration and two individuals sharing a moment of each others lives. That passage was written by a happy Andrew. Happy Andrew left awhile ago. I am an angry Andrew. I will explain to you why I'm an angry Andrew in just a bit: I would just like to call attention to the fact that this is a cynical, every-silver-lining-has-a-cloud rant, and if my original post uplifted your spirits and brought a little warmth to your soul, you might just want to walk away with that and ignore this hasty addendum. If you're still reading, you've probably already made your choice, but don't say I didn't warn you.

Minutes, minutes after wrapping up "The Student and The Monk," I again ventured forth to the Student Center. I wanted to get to class early so that I would have some time to work on my animation project (yes, I have a paper to write AND a project to animate, I'm one busy motherfucker). Of course, in writing my first post of the day, I neglected to buy lunch. To correct this, I ordered a hot dog. As I sat, enjoying my beef cylinder, a student approached me and asked if I was busy.

Immediately, red flags went up. Say you're busy, common sense cried, for god's sake say you're busy! But my heart said, you know, this has been a good day, I think I'll humor him. I told him I wasn't busy. And that's when I unwittingly boarded the train to Shitville.

The student, asian, a few years older than myself, introduced himself as Mike. Mike was not a DePaul student, he was enrolled at some Catholic school and was training to become a preacher or something. He asked me if I am, or have at any point in time ever been, a devout Christian. Again, I answered truthfully: yeah, I used to. Not anymore. This simple action, this little slip of the tongue, was like opening the floodgates. He started with questions, like "why did you stop?" and "what do you think of this and that?" I was still too cheerful from my previous encounter with the monk, and so I went along with him, talking about how I've studied a multitude of religions and their philosophies, and have found that in all cases the religions' belief systems and regulations were too intrusive and restraining to me. At this point, I probably should have also explained my theory regarding a strict belief and adherence to the supernatural quadrant of religious belief: in other words, if you seriously expect me to believe that it is not only plausible, but one hundred percent, bonafide truth that an invisible, omnipresent, all-powerful man in the sky and his magical zombie son decide which good little girls and boys get to go to the wonderful sky-kingdom when they die, you're an idiot. I can't even argue with you, because your logic is based on fairy tales. Of course, at the time, my new friend Mike here had no idea. So he decided to take me on a twenty minute long verbal tour of Evangelism, full of metaphors and personal experiences and pauses where he would ask if I understood. Twenty. Minutes.

Don't get me wrong, his oratory was pretty good. His speaking skills were excellent, he never stuttered, and he certainly sounded like he was making sense. The whole Jesus thing was working out great for him, and that's fabulous. Who am I to tell people what they should do with their lives? If pretending like there's a God and that he's got this great big plan for all of us makes you feel better, then go ahead and dress up for church every Sunday. Go score some more points for the afterlife, if that floats your boat. Because I know that when you're dead, that's it. Game over. You lose. You're fertilizer, end of story. It just seemed to me like he was missing the point. Religion shouldn't be about "my God is better than yours" or "the only way you can achieve eternal salvation is..." Religion to me is about having a code of conduct, sticking to it, and finding happiness among people who love you. That's why I see no need to affiliate myself with any specific religion (not even atheism... because yes, it is a religion). I already have everything a religion has to offer without all of the downsides.

Of course, friend Mike wouldn't understand. After his twenty minute long sermon, there came that point at which I was supposed to rise from my seat, thrust my hands into the air and shout, "Jesus has saved me!"

I didn't.

Instead, I told him that I need some more time to think about it (a blatant lie: at this point, I wanted him to go away) we shook hands and he left.

I picked up my hot dog. It was cold now. Damn. Outside, it was raining.

Of course, that was some time ago. The anger has passed now, but still, I was in such a great mood after talking to the traveling monk that having to deal with this overzealous theology student really brought me back down to earth. Hard.

Anyway, that was it. Hopefully you didn't read it, and you still have a positive outlook regarding religious faith. I, on the other hand, am permanently jaded. Except around December 25th, then I suddenly become a church-going Christian once more! MERRY CHRISTMAS!