I grew up in a strongly religious home. My
mother ensured that we observed the Sabbath. We had prayers every morning and
evening, and a bible study every other evening. Church attendance was not a
request; it was more of a command that we had to obey without asking why. This
basically was my way of life up till I joined form one in a respectable
boarding school. Fortunately or unfortunately, it was a catholic school; not a
strict one though (thank God). We would have a compulsory school mass every
Thursday and the order of the mass would be arranged by the students. There was
a roster that would go round allocating a Thursday to classes, from form one to
form four. Funny enough, I enjoyed these masses. They were actually fun,
especially the dancing and the short skits (or plays) that we would conjure up
to go with the theme of the message that the priest was to preach that day
(we’d be given these beforehand). Sometimes the fun would be made juicier if
the priest came in drunk; it was always such fabulous entertainment. Other than
that, I really tried to keep it low key when it came to religious matters,
which I believe was quite understandable given my background…a girl just needed
a break! I needed to smoke some weed! (Which I did not, by the way…trut!)
As it turned out, I enjoyed the
low key freedom for one year. When I was in form two, the Christian Union (CU)
decided to select representatives (for the Union) from each class. There were
four streams, and one from each was selected. Fortunately or unfortunately, I
was selected representative for my class. So much for being…low key. ‘There,’ I
thought, ‘my high school freedom and all my cheeky plans have been thwarted!’
The day came for the ‘ceremony’ for the selected representatives to be
presented before the whole school, and I walked down the stairs to the front
with a smile on my face (and an apprehensive frown in my heart) and shook hands
with the respective people. For the rest of that year, I experienced the slight
pressure that came with being tagged as a religious consulate. I think my
walking posture also changed to adjust to this new title. This lasted a little
while though when I realized that I was elected for being me. My quiet,
non-chalant nature must have come off as benevolent and benign (Note: I have a
smug look on my face right now). And I hadn’t smoked weed yet, or been on the
school’s black book. Other than that, I have no idea why I had been elected
given the fact that I would skive (not attend) the Christian Union meetings. In
third form, it happened again. I was selected the CU Vice Chairlady. ‘There’s
just no stopping this roller coaster, is there?’ I mused with a tad bit
disappointment. I could not understand how this had happened. Again! I was far
from perfect as a CU-arian. I was not faithful in going for the morning devotion
meetings; somehow it used to make much more sense to just sleep those extra
precious minutes. I would sing secular music (I was in love with Whitney
Houston) in the shower which was like a taboo. I actually remember being pulled
aside because of this, and being told I was leading the sheep astray. And all
the while I kept thinking, these are not sheep, they are people! Have a heart,
will ya? I used to hang out with people from the wrong side of town. Despite my
quiet nature, my lack of interest in being part of a group would erase any
shyness of asking questions and trying to be honest with myself above all… Is
that how radicals usually are? Anyway, all these attributes did not block the
inevitable. I honestly cannot remember what I did ‘right’; might be selective
amnesia.
Remember the pressure that I
talked about when I was elected the CU representative in Form two? The one that
set in for a time and then disappeared after some self given pep talk? That
pressure came raining hard. And that ‘religious consulate’ tag that was sort of
imaginary in Form Two was so visible this time round. And heavy too. It must
have changed my walking style this time, for real. I felt the burden of
responsibility laden on my shoulders. I would often run statements through my
mind, edit them, and pray for their cleansing before I spoke (hyperbole, I
know, but you get my point). Of course there were those few precious people I
could be real with; otherwise I would have withered and died a mute lass. I
liked some things about CU, the encouragement that came from sharing the
Word…but for the most part, I felt…judged. I still sang secular music, with an
argument in my head that it was not so much that the singer did not include
Jesus in the lyrics, but that what they sang and communicated something noble
or real that I could familiarize myself with. There would be some in-groupings
(that I still loathe to date) that would happen, and this would either leave
some people out in the cold, or in a desperate need to grasp on for some sense
of identity. I sincerely gave thanks to the good Lord when fourth form came and
my time to pass over the mantle came. I earnestly prayed for the next CU Vice
Chairlady to find a balance between being real to herself and her God, and
being responsible as a leader. I prayed for her to want to hand over the mantle
in not so much of a hurry as I was, and with a smile on her face and heart
knowing that she served God (truly, and not for the fear of what people might
say), even in the little ways like freely sharing her smile with everyone,
sharing her food with that person who was not visited, listening to that person
who needs to just talk and not be counseled at that moment, chastise without
judging, laugh and hug and be silly and make memories of sincerely delightful
moments without thinking of her title… And just be human! Be a human being that
is not trying to be perfect, but wanting to be humble enough to love God and
others. It can’t go wrong from this stand point.
After high school, I made an
immature but necessary decision not to go to church for a year. I have never
been so resolute. I was sick and tired of the pretense…I had all sorts of nasty
excuses to back up my decision. Luckily enough, I kept reading the bible. This,
I could not leave (thank God, and thanks mum!) There was (and is) always such a
serene assurance in the words of this book…whether they were encouraging me or
whooping my ass back in line. They always settled heavily in my heart, and had
truth written all over them. But church,
I kept away from. I just wanted to live my life and not be judged. A year
passed, and I decided to set my foot into church… This would be sporadic of
course. But each time I went, I really listened. Then left, seeing no need to
make friends and be part of a community…all that was just unnecessary hullabaloo
to me at the time. Ok, before you get the wrong idea, this is not one of those
‘I was blind but now I see’ testimonies, no. I say this because not much has
changed now. I do not go to church every Sabbath. However, I do not do this
under the guise of excuses and by playing the blame game. I have realized that
I am a human being who has just as much capability to judge like the others I
loathed. Despite the fact that I think religion is an institution that houses spirituality
(thus has the potential of being thoroughly manipulated by humanity); I still
believe that its representation (church) serves a very important purpose in
society. Just as a library houses books for knowledge, a church houses people
who can guide you, or just keep you company in your spiritual walk (from the
pastor/priest to members of the congregation). It makes your walk easier if you
let it. However, the church is made of people
not angels; therefore, a lowering
of expectations from saintly and angelic actions to that of human beings as
yourself will make stuff clearer and easier to handle. Also, going to church
for the right reasons. God. And not because you want to be part of a cool crowd
or church…you can always join a club for this purpose. That said, I still ask
find myself asking the same question I did years ago in high school. How does
one draw the line between being real, to yourself and God, and being
responsible for other people as a leader in society; whether in the spiritual,
intellectual or talent sense. Of these three, does one override the other? Does
intellect dictate spiritual and talent related issues. Or does spiritual
dictate and guide the others? How do you not lose yourself in being too self
absorbed or being overly conscious of other people? Where do you draw the line,
and how do you know you’re crossing it? Are there rules to these kinds of
things or do you just play it by ear?
Here’s what I would really want
for myself. I want to live abundantly, to the full, unforgivingly. This means
different things to different people. Time has taught me though, that this does
not mean being selfish and just thinking of myself. Me, me, me is dull, dull,
dull, as some millionaire said (forgotten his name). There’s a huge level of
satisfaction that comes from doing stuff motivated not only by your own well
being and fulfillment of your dreams, but by the value you are adding onto
other people’s lives. This always adds a little bit of spice to everything. So, yes, I want to be real to myself, but I
cannot afford to be entirely reckless. Not because of fear of other people, because of care. This sounds like one of those
paradoxical statements like, ‘not paying attention to your image or how you
look is as much foolish as judging a book by its cover.’ I don’t think there’s
a rule on where to draw the line. Different circumstances may necessitate
different actions, and this may change the point at which to draw that line.
Once you know what you want, discernment will light the way for you.
I’m curious though, how do you
handle the pressure of this decision, if at all?
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