Skywriter
In my younger life
I worked in Ministry
For 7 plus years
I preached sermons
I taught classes
I spoke at conventions
Travelled all over
Read the Bible every day
I also read the Satanic Bible
Cover to cover
I immersed myself in the writings of Atheists and Gnostics
Bertrand Russell’s
Why I’m Not a Christian
Was actually instrumental
In the securing of my belief
In God
I read the Quran
Studied Islam
Eastern religion
Mysticism
The Bible says to test your faith
I was raised to question
I figure
What good is my Faith
If it’s never been challenged
My belief system won’t hold up
If it’s never had to bear the weight of dissent
I have questioned
Deeply questioned
There has been darkness and doubt in my life
That no one even knows about
I have argued and considered
The finer points of faith
With Satanic priests
Broken people
Hedonists and Holy rollers
The latter being the most difficult
I learned
People who are unconvinced of their argument
Tend to get angry right away
People who know deep down
There might be holes in the fabric of their “faith”
Tend towards attack
Name calling
Pre conceived judgement
Societal categorization
To support the frame work of what they want to be true
I have recognized this behavior in myself
From time to time
And as result
I dug up and replaced
Many cornerstones
Of buildings
I assumed to be sound
After my divorce
I met the reality
Of religion
The reality
Of who I was
And thank heaven
The real Messiah
It was a welcome relief
Like taking off your bra
Or being naked
In water
Suffice to say
I don’t do blind anything
Love
Faith
Allegiance
I deeply mistrust anyone who is dismissive of questions
Like the doctor who told me that I should just stop asking questions
Take the fertility drugs and hormone therapies she was prescribing me
Despite their potential to increase my cancer risk
Because otherwise
I must not really want children
Yes she really said that
She also proclaimed me to be barren
Without pharmaceutical intervention
If you know me at all
You know how the rest of the story went
I could tell you a hundred more
I’ll admit
The baseline of my character
Is made to resist
The poetry of Rage Against the Machine
“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me.”
Rings through my soul
Like a beautiful prayer
There are times I have resisted
What was good for me
After I met Leroy
I pretty much got over that
What’s my point?
I guess it’s that
My years working in an arena
That often mutates Faith
Into little more than behavior control
Taught me
Houses built on sure foundations
Don’t get worked up
About a hurricane of questions
Houses built on sand
Get pissed at the breeze
If you can’t be challenged on your opinions
Without dissolving into infantile rage
Than maybe what you believe
Needs some testing
Or maybe you must learn
Not to take disagreement
As a personal assault
Either way
True passion and belief
Rarely resorts
To dehumanizing your opponent
Or role playing
The kind of person they must be
To dare disagree
I’m passionate about my beliefs
They are precious to me
They have been forged through trial
Fire
Trouble
Sorrow
I have broken them
Hated them
Found the center thread of iron
I have had to realize
Where I was wrong
Like the time I thought
People who drank alcohol were spiritually deficient
Somehow less
Than people who didn’t
I have had to confront my own bias
Fear
Weakness
Blindness
And I’m not done
What’s my other point?
Maybe there’s not one
Except
I would beseech you
Beg you even
Ask to be shown the truth
Ask again
Look around
Look again
Question
Most especially those
Who say you can’t
Have the courage
To tear down your assumptions
Even just for a moment
Consider
You may be the one
With the wrong end of the stick
It’s an uncomfortable
But necessary excavation
If something catches your instinct
Don’t stifle it
Grab hold of that thread
And pull
Keep pulling
Then pick up that pile of yarn
Reweave it
Into something sound
Something
Worth wearing
Something that will welcome
The wind of inquisition