Upon entering a place of worship, I feel. My stomach loops and my lungs expand over my heart. As I try to locate the ceiling, I am entrapped by a force. A force that makes me question whether my position on this earth is true or compelled. What is this feeling? Is there a God? Why Him? (9 min read)
At dusk, two estranged women find themselves deep in philosophical conversation.
Avery: Why is it that so many people feel the need to subject themselves to certain religions? Do they have an inability to think freely?
Vilela: It is not right of you to say that people “subject” themselves to a certain religion—they choose to be a part of one because they want to. Is that not what makes them free thinkers? The ability to choose how to think?
Avery: Surely most people who identify with a religion are religious since birth. I argue that infant baptism is the leading cause of believing that you “exist under one god”.
Vilela: You speak of religion as if it is a disease.
Avery: It is one. You mustn't forget about how your religion came to be.
Vilela: Most people who fall under the umbrella of Christianity are well aware of its corrupt foundation, but you make a fragmented argument if you only blame its history. Religion is more than death and abuse—it is a connection between you and God.
Avery: I disagree. If the majority of Christians were fully cognisant of the disgusting history behind how their religion manifested in the Americas, then they would not be Christian. Even if they are aware, they clearly choose to ignore it. You cannot ignore such a history. There is more to it. It now seems as though I am in agreement with your previous sentiments—there is a psychological dopamine released when it comes to participating in any religion.
Vilela: I will not avoid your passionate attitude towards the history of my religion. You are correct, there is a high possibility that most Christians are aware of our intrusion upon the indigenous people of the Americas and choose to ignore it. So I speak for myself when I say I am not ignorant of this history. I am simply someone who feels complete when I believe. You can argue that Christianity is not my religion, or that it was not made for someone like me. I would argue that you are wrong and frankly are not in a position to tell me otherwise. I assume that you are an atheist, the way you speak so passionately. Interestingly enough, I feel as though we share more characteristics than you might think. Although I speak in a neutral tone, my feelings about God are as strong as yours. This religion that you call Christianity is more than a name. It is a space that allows me to be vulnerable. God understands me and protects me. What else do I need?
Avery: There is no God. Allow me to rephrase myself as I know how distasteful a comment like that can come across. Do you understand that religion is a concept as subjective as art? There is a reason that there are over 10,000 religions in this world today, each with their own creation stories—which I am sure you know as “genesis”— rules of life, and understanding of existence after death. How is it possible to believe in one thing when there are thousands of other things that are also believed in? Admittedly, I understand that my wording within my speech favors redundancy, but there is a small selection of words that I can choose from to describe religion.
Vilela: You sound frustrated. Naturally, this is a topic that you have given much thought to. Let me reiterate: I am not ignorant. I am well aware that there are many other religions that exist each of which has its own set of beliefs and rules. That simply does not dictate how I feel about my own religion. It is mine, it is what I believe in because I choose to. Why would I need to consider other religions in order to prove that I am a Christian?
Avery: You need to consider other religions in order to prove that there is no “one God”!
Vilela: I hear what you are saying. Again, I can only speak for myself when I say that I understand that other religions that may believe in more than one divine power exist. That is okay with me. But what I am here to tell you is that I, like millions of other Christians, believe that there is only one God in this world.
Avery: How can you be so sure in this belief that there is one God when millions of people cannot say the same? You say that you believe in God like you name the color of the sky.
Vilela: I encourage you to listen to your own words. My faith is solely composed of my own beliefs and thoughts. Religion is not about a certain narrative or perspective, you must measure it at the individual level. Everyone, even under the umbrella of Christianity understands their role as a Christian differently. Is it not you who is so passionate about history? You should know that there is a reason why there are so many denominations under the Christian faith—groups of people had started to point out the faults within the Christian set of rules and decided to amend them. Rather than give up and renounce God when they did not feel accepted in their faith, they stood up and made changes. Christianity is rooted in determined and critical thinking. That is why we are so popular now because for centuries, we have failed to give up.
Avery: How naive you are. To think that your history is as black and white as you so effortlessly claim it to be. Nothing in life is black and white. Don’t they teach that in Sunday school? Or is it just comprised of “moral” lessons of what dictates sin and what doesn’t? Don’t you understand? They shape you to believe something from the beginning. They teach adolescent brains, the brains most susceptible to the comprehension of information, that there is such a thing as right and wrong, a notion so complex that philosophers today still struggle to grasp it, according to the “word of the Lord”. This is simply unjustifiable. Christianity is a form of education, a flawed education because it puts no emphasis on open-minded thinking. It leaves no room for children to question anything because their answer will always be “Because that is what God says”. I apologize if I have offended you but this is completely an unreasonable way of living. It confuses and frankly disgusts me. You, along with every other person who practices a faith, are victims of indoctrination.
Vilela: Avery, this is a completely erroneous claim with little evidence. The amount of passion you hold regarding this topic surprises me. I wonder, have you had any experience with faith?
Avery: I grew up in a household that was an embodiment of Him and his teachings. There were symbols of Catholicism everywhere I looked, flowers were bought with the sole purpose of “giving” Jesus love—it was a painting. They would force me to go to church and believe that prayer would fend off all evil. They surrounded me with these teachings and ideas, and I took them. Only after elementary school did I realize that I did not “take” these ideas and beliefs the way other people did. I simply understood them as lessons, as subjective comments on life. I did not know that people lived by this mindset and applied it to the quotidian. It did not make sense to me that people would live by such a strict and unified “code” with little questioning. Since my early years, I have been granted the best education that taught me to be a critical thinker. Due to this, my opinions on religion have become highly and unarguably pragmatic.
Vilela: What makes that “critical thinking” education so different from my “religious education”?
Avery: The difference is that one connects to the soul on a level that the other simply cannot reach.
Vilela: Precisely. So you acknowledge that there is a key difference between religion and education?
Avery: To a certain extent, yes.
Vilela: Then it is probable that we may come to an agreement soon.
Avery Vilela: Upon entering a place of worship, I feel. My stomach loops and my lungs expand over my heart. As I try to locate the ceiling, I am entrapped by a force. A force that makes me question whether my position on this earth is true or compelled. What is this feeling? Is there a God? Why Him?
Piece Reflection:
About 5.8 billion people on this planet practice religion. This, of course, encompasses a broader definition of religion and what it can mean for different people. If 86% of the world believes and centralizes their lives around a divine power, that means that there is a good chunk of people out of that number who are only religious on paper. Religion is a complicated idea that bases itself on some of the most complex human notions ever. It is difficult to label yourself as Christian or Jewish and believe in every single thing that it is supposed to be. By that logic, I argue that this 86% presented to us cannot be completely accurate. It is impossible to say that a person lives according to a specific set of rules just because they were baptized under a certain religion. However, for many people, that is the only reason necessary to identify with that specific set of beliefs. The history of religion is even more difficult to understand. There is no way to truly pinpoint the start or end of any religion, as it is simply a belief system at its core. There is one religion that exists in our society that dominates them all: Christianity. About 41% of the practicing religious world would consider themselves as Christian—there are over 10,000 religions that exist in our world today. How is it possible for 2.38 billion people to all believe in the same ideas and lifestyles? Or rather, should these opinions and experiences be measured at the individual scale? In order to explore these various questions and themes, I have immersed myself in a different branch of Platonic-style dialogue: Platonic-style monologue. The reasons behind my decision to name this a monologue are extensive but are fundamentally rooted in my own beliefs toward religion. It is a monologue as opposed to a dialogue because both “sides” make up my own feelings and understanding about religion and its role in society. For the purposes of this project, I present to you an alias who will serve as the recipient and opposing force of the dialogue. Their name is Vilela, and my name remains as is: Avery.
I am satisfied with the result of my monologue. I think that it encapsulates the main ideas that I have about religion while remaining relatively surface-level. Of course, the idea behind religion is one that I am passionate about, so limiting myself to a certain page limit has affected the amount of detail I went into for this piece. What I think the page limit pushed me to do, however, was coerce me to work with only a few ideas and give them great attention. I believe that I gave each idea enough detail and exploration that allow both of my “characters” to express themselves to the fullest extent. Something that I tried to implement into this piece was historically accurate language and flow. After working with numerous ancient Greek texts, I passively began to understand the cadence and “vocabulary” (not an accurate word as I have not read any of these texts in Greek) more. I think that by using this technique, I was able to create a space for discourse that feels as Socratic as possible. Of course, as I try and solidify my style as a writer and a poet, I also incorporated my own accents into this piece. More explicitly visible in the introductory words and the final comment of the piece, my obscure writing is present. The ambiguous introduction serves to set the two speaking women in a generalized setting, alluding to the commonality of religious and philosophical questions of belief. The concluding sentiment brings the two voices together as one to present the idea that this discourse is truly a monologue by having them explain how they feel in places of worship.
Working on this project changed my views on Plato’s work in different ways. Because my “dialogue” is a unique case, I was able to explore Socratic dialogue through my own perspectives on life. What this taught me was that the purpose of Socratic dialogue is not to coerce people into questioning but to help them understand that there is more to life than one perspective. It serves to open minds and take a step back from the quotidian. Something else that I learned was that everyone's beliefs are rooted in something, something that connects us all. We are all humans, each with different ways of thinking and living, each with our own experiences and access to education. Even if one of us does not choose to believe in God, that does not mean that the other is wrong for doing so. Maybe I am looking at this through a dilated, optimistic lens, but I truly believe that Socrates sought to genuinely help and expand people's brains in order for them to understand the true extent of thought.
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