I know why there’s a heaven.

It seems in the major scheme of things, I have had two life long quests. The search for that perfect friend, the best friend of telephone commericialdom, and a unmitigated sense of faith, or perhaps religion is a better word. I have spent more Sundays than I care to count sitting in church listening to a preacher and thinking to myself, “I’m not sure it that’s right”, or “I don’t agree with that”, or, “how can this man be preaching such utter nonsense and hate?” Last weekend, I rented and watched the video religulous. And it wasn’t what I expected, but it was very interesting. Bill Maher who is ½ Jewish but raised catholic and now a non-religious man was seeking answers. He wanted someone to show him that their beliefs were correct. And during that video, a priest (and by and far the priests were really much more laid back than the rest) said something that really struck me. He said that people tend to look at the bible as science, when it’s not. The bible was written from between 2000 BC and 200 AD by all accounts. Modern science – you know real science that wasn’t based on monsters and whirlpools living at the edge of a flat earth, didn’t emerge until about 1500 years later. So anything in the bible that tries to explain creation, or anything scientific, can’t be accurate, because no one knew about anything scientific back then. It was an “A HA!” moment for me. That belief and science really don’t have anything to do with each other, they should never be seen walking down the road holding hands because only really ugly children are bound to emerge – and I think that is indeed the case. So, that puts me back firmly in my I can believe in a higher power, I can believe that Jesus was a good man who had some valuable lessons, and I can believe that miracles happen (though mostly those are perception and that’s all that matters) – but I can’t subscribe to the doctrine and dictates of organized religion. Not that that doesn’t mean that I won’t still have to go to church with Jose because it is SO not what he believes and that’s o.k. too.

Armed with that knowledge, however, doesn’t in anyway shape or form change the fact that will still in a pinch subscribe to the cookie cutter, fairytale style elements of faith. 4000 years ago, people died a lot. People died young. Young people saw a lot of people die. And it is to the parents of those young people that we owe the creation of an after life. I know this because I myself, just yesterday had to create such a pretty place. Our cat, Charlie, who we had found as a stray at the elementary school, came down with some mysterious ailment and died. Charlie is not the first animal to die in our house. In fact, Charlie is the last in a long line of animals – so many animals in fact that I begin to fear that we are becoming Pet Semetary 4. Usually, the highway gets them. If not the road, they run off to meet their demise after a wild night of partying. But not Charlie. She never went outside. I got her fixed so she wouldn’t run away. And don’t you know that it wasn’t good enough. She died anyway from some unknown cause.

When we got home and learned about her death. Elijah was pretty calm, a little sad, but not overly so. Isaiah stopped and looked stunned, but it looked affected. He went outside looked in the cage and then slowly walked into the house and burst into heart wrenching sobs. He wanted Charlie. He wanted Charlie back. Where’s Charlie. And there I stood with no answer that I could give him that he would accept, that would soothe his hurt except that “He’s in heaven with god now.” And 45 minutes later after building on that initial comment, Isaiah finally calmed down enough to go swing and then move on (scoring a few bonus points by asking Papa not to kill his cats anymore, please). And there it was – the reason and the why of it. Whether you believe or not, Heaven is a fairytale place that soothes the fears and sadness of those you leave behind. It also makes those beginning the journey feel so much better about having to go – if you know that you’re going to see someone again. And it even makes Hell a rational place, because God knows you don’t want to see Mrs. Lawler in heaven, so she’s not invited because she’s a bad persons. And don’t get me wrong, heaven would be a great place. Though, I don’t know if I wish there was one, because I’m pretty sure that as Mrs. Doubting Thomas here, I probably won’t get there.

Isaiah's First Communion

Alright, so today is Sunday and Jose decided that it was a Sunday he wanted to go to church. He's sort of wierd on the Sundays he decides to go and not go. Going to church is never more important that overtime, but if he doesn't work, or doesn't want to sleep in, then we must all jump up and go. Today, Jose had originally planned to go to the 9:30 service, as Franklin had to be at work and we could drop him off on the way in. And me, being the generally non-church person, was not about to let anyone not go to church if I had to go (though Franklin tried to steal my malicious joy as we walked in saying he didn't care if he went to church ... which was a commendable effort, but I saw his face when he stumbled from his room to the bathroom this morning after going to bed after midnigh - and he cared.) So, because we were going to have to leave early, we kept Isaiah with us in the church service instead of taking him to Sunday school. And this week, they had communion. They had communion two weeks ago too -- so I'm wondering if perhaps the fact that the church purchased the catholic property next door (bought the church and are going to tear it down to expand) has perhaps resulted in adopting some practices - who knows. Anyway, Isaiah, who was pretty happy to hear the music. Wanted to have someone read the words on the jumbotron thing they have, and was not quite sure how to effectively whisper was holding his own in church. And apparently, he was listening much more closely than I ever listened in church, because when the deacons began to pass out the grape juice and wafers, he got really upset. When I asked him what was wrong, he said "I don't want to drink blood. That's blood." And there I was torn between getting tickled and then panicked that I had just created a religious zealot who really really believed the symbolism was in fact a reality (sort of like Jose Luis Jesus Miranda who believes he is the 2nd Jesus - no really). He absolutely refused to try the wafer, but I was able to get him to taste the grape juice after tasting it first in front of him. Then, once he realized that it was not blood, he was pretty quick to ask for some more. But it's the panic that was important and just goes to show you that faith isn't something that is acquired, it's something that's learned -- and I'm not sure that I want it to be learned or not. It's my forever debate - between the logical, rational part of my mind that says no way and the part of me that was told since infancy that this is true. It's a debate for later.