An interesting argument ensued in my house this morning between my father and me, when Psychobrat was going on about Amityville Horror and how she can’t sleep at night anymore, and the entire family went to the computer to look at pictures of the real house, read aloud something about a priest visiting the house and saying that the third floor was the worst part, and I mistakenly said something (but what?—I can’t remember precisely what my comment was) about how I don’t believe there are quite so many exorcisms being performed by priests as some would have you believe.
Not that exorcisms are something you hear about on the news every day. What I meant was that I don’t feel that every case of divine intervention necessarily involves a Catholic priest (or that if it does, there’s quite a bit of hoaxing going on, as well). Come on, I’m supposed to believe that God only works through Catholics? And only the priests, at that? That, just because a man is a Catholic priest, he can suddenly sense evil spirits wherever they may lurk?
I stated as much, pointing out that supposedly God works through plain old ordinary people quite often—people you just wouldn’t expect to see great things coming from. (Jesus was a carpenter. His mother was the wife of one. Noah was no Prince of Egypt, although Moses was, but only in name.)
Somehow this led my dad to ask me questions like, “So you don’t believe there is evil in the world?”
Did I ever say that I don’t believe that there’s evil in the world? How anyone could live in this world and not believe in the existence of evil is beyond me.
“And you do believe in Moses?” he went on. And, “Why do you even believe in religion at all if you have thoughts like this?”
I said, “All I said is that I don’t believe God always chooses to work through Catholic priests!” and as he was partially distracted anyway, the conversation sort of died right there.
The truth is, maybe I don’t believe in religion anymore. Or God. I don’t know. I just keep asking myself questions. And to me it seems suspicious that religious people, like my family, are quick to get offended when you question things about religion. I can’t ask an innocent question without you freaking out? It seems like you have something to hide, like maybe deep down you don’t even believe in the religion and are afraid that if I won’t believe in it with you then it will be exposed as a fraud. Because seriously, if “God works through more people than just Catholic priests” causes you to freak out and wonder whether I think Moses was real…it seems you’re hiding something.
But then I feel blasphemous and afraid for having these thoughts. Like I’ve been brainwashed all my life not to question my own beliefs for fear of what could happen if I allow my mind to wander too much.
Anyway. Cort and I got our apartment in Orlando. Of course, I still have not heard from UCF, so god only knows if I’ll be moving into the place.
I’m not feeling too well at the moment, so I’m going to end this right here and just wait for the laundry to be done so I can go to bed.