I believe in you Lord!

It has been raining for about a week straight now. The sky is clean and full of clouds, vehicles drive by more slowly with all the summers dirt drained off. I’m getting that claustrophobic feeling again. It’s as if my body has a great deal of gravity and pressure being exerted on it. Maybe I’m overtly sensitive? This feeling comes and goes and for the next four months will be a struggle for myself. I have to be domestic again.

I just found out there is a Church of Scientology next to where I live. The building is sporting a Roman-Greco architecture – it screams of pretension – and I want to infiltrate it. I always hear about this group and am curious how different their religion is in comparison to others. Maybe I should try to track down a service, show up unannounced and see what the reaction would be.

Worst case scenario, they think I’m the prophet reborn and they start to worship me with zest. Or best case scenario, upon sneaking in, I discover they are not really human’s but instead aliens who shed off their skins when the doors of the ‘scientologium’ are closed. I still haven’t figured out how a science fiction writer such as L. Ron Hubbard could be a founder of a religious movement.

I have been rifling though all my previous religious crazes. First, my United Church, glory bestowed upon me, it was my first taste of something holy and pure. I only attended this church for funerals, weddings, and school trips, minus a brief stint in Sunday school, I do feel as if I evolved greatly as a religious being. It was a church that bestowed a great deal of pride in me when I would mention my denomination to friends.

Secondly, think about this statement: JW galore. Yes, it’s true. I have a connection to the Jehovah’s Witnesses. My mothers side, at least half of her sisters and one brother are ‘Jehovees’, and they have just recently got my grandparents. Whenever we visited our aunt Charity in Gander she would always bribe our family to make us attend a meeting with her. Now, first we would be scrutinized on our clothing, our hairstyles, even our general cleanliness, and after a promise of treats and/or pizza we were off.

Now I have met some crazy fucks in my day but this church was quite the social experiment. I’ve never seen so many wide eyed yet vacant people in my whole life. My aunt would parade me around and keep my sister and family in the background. My selling feature was the fact that I was young and very knowledgeable about the bible. One might say I was even interested in it.

My religious knowledge went a long way in the community and when question time came about, I would put up my hand, grab the mike, and answer questions, only to hear a hall of applause afterward. I was hooked! I wanted the fame. I wanted people to approach me after a meeting and ask about me, her smart, young nephew. What can I say I was a whore for attention.

After leaving Newfoundland and heading to BC, I decided I am a man of great spirituality. I don’t need a specific religion to become closer to God. So I formed my own religion and had my own views about the world around me. I would define spirituality as taking a bike ride along the ocean and clearing my mind, or swimming laps, or…going for a hike up Mount Finlayson. To me, spirituality was being one with nature, keeping my body strong, and active. There was one thing missing though...

I was traveling on the ferry back from Vancouver; I think I was coming down from a harsh weekend of … well, let’s not go there. As much as I wanted to sleep, all I could hear was the sounds of laugher. One seat up from me were the happiest people I have ever seen in my life. It almost seemed unreal in a way. Four smiling and well-adjusted, young adults were entertaining themselves for an hour now. I had to investigate.

As groggy as I was, I asked “Excuse me, I can’t help but notice how happy you all are, not that it’s abnormal, but …. why are you so happy?”

“Well,” the younger guy, with blond hair and perfect teeth turns to me, still smiling, still radiant, “it’s simple, we’re Mormon’s”, and once again they surprise me with an uproar of happiness. I must say, I love Mormons. I met another group of them – notice they travel in groups – on a bus to Vancouver once. After my first experience, identifying the next group was easy. All I had to do was ask “Are you all Mormon?”

So my next stab at something more concrete as a religion was the Mormon faith. They gave me a bible on that bus trip and wished me the best. I was interested. I kept the bible close, looked at its thickness, watched a South Park episode on it, and realized it wasn’t for me. I mean, yeah, I could have made the effort of at least reading one page, but really, I know they won’t accept me. I’m not as…innocent as they are. I have had a much more enriched life, and I’m not sure if I could life by their rule set.

Religion is a great thing. It’s great to have some sort of omnipotent force supporting your everyday life. It’s cool to ask this unforeseen force for guidance, to use this spiritual being as a vessel to judge and blame others. It’s great…but I think I have a busy enough schedule.