“Religion…has certain ideas at the heart of it which we call sacred or holy or whatever. What it means is, ‘Here is an idea or a notion that you’re not allowed to say anything bad about; you’re just not!’ If somebody votes for a party that you don’t agree with, you’re free to argue about it as much as you like; everybody will have an argument but nobody feels aggrieved by it. If somebody thinks taxes should go up or down you are free to have an argument about it. But on the other hand if somebody says, ‘I mustn’t move a light switch on a Saturday’, you say, ‘I respect that’.” –Douglas Adams, as quoted in The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins
I share this quote for two reasons: 1) I am almost finished reading The God Delusion, which is one of the best books I’ve ever read—incredibly intellectually stimulating and philosophically validating, and 2) It reflects my sentiments about an encounter I had today with a Catholic evangelist, who I believe is seriously mentally ill. Here’s what happened…
I was working my usual morning shift at St. Joseph’s Church, where I am a receptionist in the parish office, when this man walked in, who I immediately recognized. At first, I thought I’d probably seen him around the parish before, but then I realized he is a regular at Firstenburg Community Center, my other job. His name is Michael, and as I tell more about him, I’m sure some of my FCC coworkers reading this will know exactly who I’m talking about. He is a self-proclaimed Catholic prophet, who apparently has a very tumultuous history with the Church, having rejected it and come back to it multiple times. He always carries a rosary on his person (if not several), and this time he also came equipped with his Ziploc bag of prayer cards, phony Virgin Mary of Guadalupe photos, and typed documents (who knows what they contain…notes for proselytizing?). Despite that I was working, and despite that he was in the parish office of a Catholic church, Michael felt the need to say, “I just want to talk to you real quick about how the Blessed Mother saved me from suicide.” Heeeeere we go, I thought. He asked me my name, which I reluctantly offered up, knowing full well he would use it formulaically throughout his speech to try and make it more “personal.” He also asked me if I was Catholic, to which I more reluctantly replied, “Well, I grew up Catholic, but I’m no longer a practicing Catholic.” Twenty minutes later, I realized how big a mistake this was. What I should have said was, “Yes, sir! Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior, and Holy Mary is my maternal link to the Almighty Father! Catholic all the way! Go Catholicism!” But, alas, I had to be true to myself, and the advice of Richard Dawkins rang in my mind: Be a proud agnostic-atheist!
Michael’s evangelization lasted for at least twenty minutes, but it felt like an eternity. The sad thing is, the whole time I kept thinking to myself, “This man is actually crazy.” He was once an alcoholic, depressed beyond belief, failing in his marriage, in dire debt, and on the verge of suicide. He had flip-flopped back and forth between Catholic and Baptist faiths, ultimately feeling disenchanted with both (go figure), and coming to the conclusion that either one or the other was right and he had to make a decision between the two. (Because, you know, there is no other theological alternative…) As fate would have it—or some completely arbitrary occurrence, I suspect—he realized that Catholicism was the way to expel the devil from his soul and secure a spot in heaven. According to him, he sank to his knees one day in his home, and when he did so, the entire foundation shook like an earthquake (one of the many indicators of his mental illness) and brought him to tears. He prayed the rosary for the first time in years, and the “Blessed Virgin” revealed herself to him, telepathically. She paid off his debt, saved his marriage, cured him of his addiction, and saved his life in one fell swoop. Now don’t get me wrong, I am all for someone in Michael’s situation finding the inspiration necessary to make their life better and get the help they need. However, the point is that I sincerely believe Michael is still very disturbed because he has replaced constructive methods of rehabilitation with devout, irrational, scrupulous Catholic ritualism and has never gotten the help he really needs. According to his testimonies, he still has a very problematic relationship with his wife (which he says has strengthened his faith, and is thus a blessing) and he is a retiree of the US Navy who exhibits all the typical signs of PTSD (I don’t know if he was in combat, but nevertheless…). His beliefs are founded on conspiratorial, superstitious anecdotes that most Catholics would dismiss as bull****. He showed me a photo of a Virgin Mary of Guadalupe painting, with a series of blemishes that were either Photoshopped or simply caused by bad camera quality, but which he tried to convince me were: the Eucharist in her hands, a snake at her feet, the Holy Spirit at her side, and all the unborn babies of the universe, which she will save from being aborted. I mean, come on. He is grade A nuts. He also informed me that his epiphany occurred while he lived in the state of Virginia, which was, of course, linguistic proof that the “Virgin” Mary was calling him. He told a series of other embellished stories about himself and all the poor saps he proselytized to, who supposedly said, “You know, I think you’re right. I am now a believer.” To him, this was further evidence that he speaks the truth. To me, this is evidence that people will say anything to get a crazy evangelist off their back. Unfortunately, after nodding and smiling (silently) throughout his entire shtick, I still didn’t have it in me to say what he wanted to hear. He even asked me, point blank, if I believed that he was speaking the truth, and I literally stared at him, unable to speak. He said, “Your guardian angel would tell you to say something if you didn’t think I was speaking the truth, so I know you believe. Thank you for listening. You are a nurturer like Mary. God bless you.”
I think this was probably the most extreme and uncomfortable encounter I’ve ever had with a fanatic religious person, and knowing that he comes around Firstenburg all the time, I am really worried about running into him again. I promptly told my coworker, whose office is right next to mine, that we needed to develop a secret signal for when I need to be rescued from a crazy person. But in all seriousness, as a non-religious person who doesn’t believe that God is likely to exist, and who leads a perfectly fulfilled life without any type of supernatural spirituality, I am very, very weary of feigning deference to religion. I mean no offense to those who are religious and who believe in God, especially those who have thought about it critically and who do not try to force their beliefs upon others. However, I really want to learn some strategies for becoming more forthright about my own beliefs—how to not be afraid of professing them when prompted. Richard Dawkins has helped me to realize the importance of doing so, and now I just need to learn how. Non-religious, atheist/agnostic individuals are numerous, but we are still judged harshly and discriminated against in this country and around the world. We are assumed to be people gone astray, doomed to hell and to a life full of misery and emptiness. I’m here to say that most of us are not that. We are people who embrace life, humanity, nature, death, etc. with a rational, humanistic, and fearless philosophy, and we are most often peacemakers (in fact, more likely to be peacemakers than religious folks, if you look at historical and contemporary evidence). If you are religious and theistic, I respect you; however, I truly encourage you to continuously question your beliefs, keeping an open mind to other belief systems, and always seeking further knowledge about why you believe what you believe. I encourage you to respect those who disagree with you. And for the love of all that you deem holy, please don’t interrupt someone’s workday for a quickie conversion. Waste of time, thas all I’m sayin’.
