Bullet In A Bible #4

...Born and raised by hypocrites.

Hearts recycled but never saved

from the cradle to the grave

we are the kids of war and peace

from anahem to the middle east

we are the stories and disciples of

the jesus of suburbia

land of make believe

and it dont believe in me and i dont care!

At less that a week old, I had already had my first trip to church. Up until not long ago, I attended weekly services more often than not for the next thirty years in a non-Catholic but typical Jesus-based denomination. A few years ago after the "DaVinci Code" and other related phenomena, I seriously began to question the beliefs that I had been taught my entire life. I switched faiths despite my fear of being executed down by the almighty strike of lightening and it was quite a big event that gave me stomach-aches for a number of months (my childhood religion was one of the "fire and brimstone variety".) It's an inevitable event in the life of anyone who chooses to take the path of personal growth: to question and seek out one's own belief in a higher power.

Though I have been very pleased with my decision to change faiths, I still have many questions and even more doubts that plague me. I keep telling myself that I am only asking the same questions that have been asked for generations:

• Did Jesus exist?
• Was Jesus divine?
• How can God allow bad things to happen?
• Do any of these issues even matter if you lead an honorable, noble, and loving life?

I tend to answer the last question with a big "no," yet I still cannot get myself to attend services any longer. If there is one thing that I cannot do is participate in an activity that I do not believe in or pretend to be someone that I am not and I have not decided on either.

I do believe that the role of decent churches in a community is vital. No matter what the details are of the religious premise, truly loving churches provide a resource to those in need. I fear what would happen if there were no churches to hand out coats and food to the poor or minister to those who have lost loved ones or to just support each other. So if I believe in churches and faith so much then what is my problem? Why am I no longer participating in something I believe in? Is it the late Sunday mornings at IHOP I have been enjoying? Am I too bitter over my childhood bruises? Have I seen too much beyond-the-norm hypocrisy (so I've become a part of it)? Is it too painful to see nice people who do not yell and scream during services? Because nothing is simple, it is probably all of the above and then some.

I have no answer and another Sunday approacheth. At this time, I live the life of a powerless being flopping about helplessly and struggling to just breathe until I am either able to pick myself up and throw myself back in, I get kicked in the backside, or just die.

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