His name is Nicholas, and it wasn't long into our conversation before I knew he wanted me. I mean, he really wanted me. In fact, he wanted me so much he even wanted my soul. OK, all he really wanted was my soul. And he wanted me to host some prayer groups.
I'll be honest, I didn't really understand everything he said. He was talking Christian evangelical, and that's not a language I speak. I think I got the gist though. I think he wanted me to believe the exact language of the Christian Bible, and if I did, his god would give me a reward that would last for an eternity. He also said I could see angels and ghosts (if I understood him right), but I had to believe first. First the believing. Then the angels and ghosts and maybe some inside knowledge about the future and the past. He talked a little fast, probably because I'd already told him I'm not a Christian, and he knew he was going to lose me. He did ask what a Unitarian Universalist is, but when I gave him my elevator speech .... let's just say we were both speaking English, but communication was a struggle.
He did mention a reward of eternity several times, so I decided to focus on that. I told Nicholas the idea of eternity wasn't really a good carrot for me, because I don't care about eternity. I also don't care for systems of rewards and punishment, so his odds of delivering my soul were awfully low.
He was stunned. How could I not care about eternal life? Did I not know that I could just cease to exist when I died if I didn't get with the program? I found it refreshing that my new friend didn't threaten me with Hell. Just the loss of eternal life.
And I think that's where we will never have a meeting of the minds or the souls. Because Nicholas needs to believe in that eternal life he'll be gifted with after he dies (as long as he believes in just the right holy book and brings in as many souls as he can). He needs that eternal life so hard he's here for 6 months from California just so he can save many lost Midwestern souls.
I, on the other hand, don't need the promise of eternal life. In fact, that idea kind of scares me. I want to know what I'm going to be doing for eternity, because that is a long long long long long time. What if I'm bored? Do you know what a bitch I could be if I were bored for an actual eternity? One shudders to imagine.
But also, I don't really think time works that way. I think the only eternity I'm given is the very second I'm living in right now. So I'm more than willing to agree I should make each second count -- even though that's impossible because .... Facebook. I told Nicholas as much, without the Facebook. I don't think he's read much Stephen Hawking though, and I suspect the Bible isn't big on that kind of science.
The real barrier between Nicholas and me though is that I don't care if I blip out when I die. I won't fucking know if I blip out. And neither will my friends and family. I don't need the promise of eternity to be happy right here in this second on this beautiful blue planet. I am a part of everything simply by the fact that I am living now. I am already a part of eternity. The promise has been fulfilled.
That's why Nicholas was never going to persuade me to hold a prayer meeting, like he asked. My soul will never be his to deliver to his god, because I'm not looking for salvation. (Is that the right word?) I'm not afraid, so I have nothing to be saved from.
Adam, who works next to me selling his grass-fed beef, and Gary, who's on the other side of him selling homemade chicken patties, were being engaged by 2 of Nicholas's friends while he was digging into me. They shut their saviors down quickly, and then they sat back and laughed at me because I engaged in the conversation. I didn't have any customers, so it cost me nothing.
But also, I thought it might be important for Nicholas to realize that it's OK to be at peace with whatever happens when we die, even if that means we just blip out. No awareness beyond our time on this planet. It really is OK. Not terrifying at all. To me.
Not that I want to die any time soon. But when I do -- about 50 years from now -- I don't need a reward for living my life here. I wouldn't change a thing I'm doing even if I knew for certain that reward would await me upon my death. I don't live my life lunging for that eternal carrot.
I don't think I've ever written about religion here, but if Nicholas did one thing, he made me think. I mean, he made me think how much I disagree with him. But he also made me want to clarify my own thinking. Again. This is not my first rodeo.
What about you? Does that carrot give you comfort? Or are you OK with blipping out .... not that you can control that shit anyway?
