Palest Ink

I was listening to a podcast from NPR’s This American Life this morning, a program entitled “Heretics”. Aside from being an interesting story, it brought to life my memory of an experience which changed my life. The story talks about the experience of Reverend Carlton Pearson, who also had his life turned upside down when he rejected of the idea of hell.

For those who have never been deeply indoctrinated into Christian theology, I’ll explain a little about how it felt, at least for me. The threat of Hell was interwoven into every aspect of my world view. Even my own mind was completely held captive. When you have always been taught that your beliefs and actions are your salvation from eternal torment, you do not allow yourself the freedom to follow your inclinations, or ask questions, even when two supposed truths contradicted each other. Not only did it shape the way I viewed my own life and the decisions that I made for myself, it completely dominated my perspective of other people. People were not interesting individuals, instead every single person was defined by whether they were saved, or not saved. I KNEW that those in the latter category were destined for an eternity of torment, and thus felt horrible guilt for every moment when I might have said something to someone about Christ, but did not. It was a heavy weight which I always carried, a weight which I was not fully aware of until it was lifted.

The day it happened started out normal enough. I was listening to an audio recording of a preacher, whom I had assumed to be theologically sound according to my standards at the time. The recording started out fine, he seemed normal, even interesting. He knew a lot about the translation of scripture, the history of the bible, things I had never really looked deeply enough into. My walls were down. Then.. the bottom dropped out of the world as I knew it. He gave an extremely logical, scriptural explanation of how the doctrine of hell was false. My head was screaming at me to turn it off, to stop listening, that this guy knew nothing, but my walls were raised too late. My heart had skipped a beat, my muscles frozen in the shock of sudden understanding. I just knew in that moment that Hell could not possibly coexist with a loving God. The possibility of a world without hell, all the possibilities that entailed, flooded over me at once. I was so moved with relief, with the release from the heavy weight I had carried, that I began to cry right there at work.

I had no idea at the time that the doctrine of hell was just the first thread as the sweater began to completely unravel. Reforming my entire world view took years, and was accompanied at times with a sense of vertigo. Not knowing up from down anymore, after having been so certain, was disconcerting to say the least. But the freedom was and continues to be invaluable. The ability to seek truth for myself is something I don’t think I’ll ever take for granted.

Hearing that podcast today, remembering the instant of my emancipation, made me want to celebrate. I only wish I knew the exact date, so I could make something of a personal holiday.

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I actually remembered a dream last night, something which doesn’t happen often enough. It was a strange combination of people,  but most of it was about a boy I knew in high school, who appears in my dreams quite often, despite the fact that we have had very little contact in the past decade. He and I were hanging out with his father, only not his real life father, in something like an army tent with cots. Then we went to a party in a mansion, and he got quite drunk, and I was trying to keep him from gambling too much. As many times as he has been in my dreams in the past, this role is something new. I think perhaps it signals an important change in myself.

Let me rewind a bit:  I was totally infatuated with him in school, but we were just friends. Those years, and many of the years since, I have thought of him with something of a feeling of inferiority. He could never like me, because I wasn’t cool/pretty/skinny/etc enough to attract the attention of somebody like him. I moved away shortly after high school, we were both married and I assumed that whole thing was behind me. Alas, no. He started showing up in my dreams about three years ago. The nature of the dreams varied somewhat, but basically amounted to my seeking validation (often in the form of love) from him, sometimes getting it, and sometimes not.  Then, a few months ago, we had a brief interchange online after he ran into my mother. I mentioned the dreams to her, and she got all excited, saying things like “He is your soul mate!” and “You need to come back so you have a chance to be together”,  and while I did not take her seriously, it did start me thinking about him again. I really considered what it would be like at this point in my life, and realized that I don’t want to lose who I have become since then. The hold he had over me was unhealthy at best, and I would not want to be in a relationship like that, for fear that I would lose myself in deferrence to him.

Then, I had the dream last night, this one different than the ones before. He and I were just hanging out, more like friends and equals, and in the end, he even needed my help. I think it is a good sign that my subconcious is finally coming to appreciate my value.  Incedently, I have also noticed that the thought of him no longer has the same emotional twinge as it has in the past. Funny, I first fell for him in Jr. High(1992) and I am finally over him in 2008. About time, eh?

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