One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Every so often, when I do manage to find some spare time (I lie. This happens quite frequently.), you'd find me wondering the myriad of streets that embody this city I reside in, Vancouver.




Awhile back, I was in my favourite little toy and t-shirt store, erratically flipping through t-shirts on the rack in hopes of finding some print that will greatly amuse me, when I stumbled upon one that sneakingly stole my attention.
I gazed at it for a few moments, in my best ability to discern the message it was trying to converse and its implications. It depicted a typical image of Jesus Christ, a rather bright yellow halo beaming from his head, with other aspects idiosyncratic to the 'Crucifiction'. Surrounding him were the British police, with their tall helmets strapped to their chins and clutching his arms while one obscured his genitals with another tall helmet, escorting him away.
Most of these t-shirts, plainly with its caricatures convey limited information on their own. It is therefore solely the responsibility of the title to reconcile the image with its association and meaning. This particular t-shirt's title was : JC was a Streaker

A female mind in its full process is quite a peculiar thing in stark comparison with a male mind. A torrential flood of ideas and opinions can literally generate and power a streamliner of non-linear reveries, as Wanda Sykes can attest to. As I sat in the car on the way back home, oddly I thought about this shirt. I can attribute my lingering afterthoughts of this shirt to my Christian roots as a supposition. My parents in their good nature brought my sister and I up with staunch Christian teachings and as a weak-willed child, I have attended a more than good enough number of church camps, meetings and events which literally bored me. Now as a grown-up, I do not steadfastly stand on a declaration that I detest Christianity nor am I an atheist. I however choose to believe the Bible's teachings as a rough guide to one's life, not to be taken into exact literal consideration, a displeasure to my parents whom with an extent of certainty of mine share close resemblances to Christian fundamentalists.

For one, that shirt conjured up no particular interest in me and so I casually flipped it over in search of better prints. But as I sat in the car thinking about this shirt, I asserted that if that person standing there in my place was my father, he would have brought his complaints to the proprietor and give an ill-favoured lecture on respect for religion, this I am sure. And this is my main point. Perhaps in the eyes of my parents, their offspring have wondered into the dark side, risking shame as a backslided Christian. But standing at this spot has enabled me a slight insight to non-Christians' and atheists' perspective, how they interpret the teachings of Christianity.

Non-Christians and especially atheists probably view religion as archaic and irrelevant. An opium for the masses when poverty still engulfed the majority, technology in its many dimensions awaited its evolution and a device for controlling (or some might say 'uniting') the population. So it especially baffles them that people living in the modern world, enjoying its many freedoms, conveniences with the abundance of scientific theories to disprove the existence of God, still put their trust in an inexplicable but supposedly ubiquitous and powerful entity. Rewind back to a hundred more years or so, the majority of populations in the Western world could be found consistently sitting in pews in church on Sunday mornings. As with time and evolvement with changes, the amount of faithful church attendees have wittled down to what we commonly associate as a gathering of old people. What with the trend in burgeoning Islamic states, war-torn and inflicted with poverty, tending to a small flicker of hope for development, it is not too inconceivable to see why people might view religion especially its entrenchment with culture and state as having forbearance to economical growth, freedoms and development. Religion, and more seemingly Christianity are being put in bad light. News regarding Ted Haggard, pedophiliac priests abusing unknowing altar boys, and fundamentalist Christians allegations on soy milk as the CAUSE of HOMOSEXUALITY and even the history of Christianity - going back to The Crusades sometimes trouble me as I am harpooned with questions about these contradictory cases against my religion and my own. IS THIS WHAT CHRISTIANITY HAS COME TO?

Every Sunday morning many many years ago, my family would pack into the small car we had and drove for 45 minutes to the church we attended. My sister in her white dresses, with a big hair-do sitting next to me while she layered pale blue eyeshadow onto her eyelids while I fidgeted with the frock I wore usually with a tulle underlayer and a bow ribbon behind my back - which always untied itself after I ran and climbed in the playground of the church. You'll be surprised, but I actually liked going to Sunday school and I reveled in wonder at all the bible stories that we were taught, my favourite being 'Ruth and Boaz'. We were taught that Jesus Christ was most loving and kind, no matter what your sin with repentance immediately entitled you forgiveness and most of all, He was a friend - someone whom you could confide in with full discretion. As the sultry south-eastern Asia days passed and we got taller, we were told the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, taught of Jesus' consuming wrath and intolerance towards man's sin, taught consequences, taught to fear God. In my mind, this has always been a particular paradox. To love God because he loved you and would forgive your sins but also not to submit to sin in the first place due to His acrimonious anger. Isn't it peculiar in a way - God hates sin but loves the sinner?

The etymology of the word science delivers definitions being: "to separate from one another, to distinguish" and "to cut, to divide", just to name a few. Some might interpret it as "to question", and that is the divider in itself. It seems that hoards of people believe that religion requires unquestioning faith, that a true-believer must banish doubt to oblivion. But the absurdity of it all is that if anyone who had intelligence of sorts would learn that the key to all knowledge begins with questioning. This makes fools out of believers. I have a theory of my own which I live by:

If there was a God and if he did create Man from his own image, he made us if not the most intelligent of all creatures. He gave us consciousness, self-awareness and most importantly, choice which differentiates us from all others. Undoubtedly, if we stand on the highest hierarchical level with respect to intelligence, we have the capability of questioning. Is it not through questioning that we find our purpose of existence - where religion draws its base from? So it should be that we are free to question religious teachings and beliefs in (at least) Christianity. If you wandered away and came back, your reinstatement would be of fuller vigor.

As I consider my father and as I sat in front of the tv watching the aggravated Muslims who torched the Norwegian and Danish embassies due to blasphemous publications of their revered prophet, I thought further: Were these acts of absolute necessity? Should we act against others' form of questioning? Any retort that resorts to physical violence surely shows some sign of uncivility. Surely, we are not living in those days of The Crusades? The one regret of the day is that acceptance of one another is still rather scarce.

To question - that is why I flipped over to another shirt without much ado as I stood in the store. I wonder, am I at a stop-over or am I at my destination?