I’ve been asked if I enjoy being filthy? Filthy as in the mud, and dirt? or being outside in a thunderstorm? You know when every single inch of you is drenched from the rain. “No,” the old man said, “filthy as a soul that is going to hell?” I chuckle with exuberance. His face was astonished by my reaction. The threat of losing my soul to hell no longer concerns me I think to myself waiting for his reply. “Do you realize that you are mocking the creator of our world, the grand holiness that is the lord, when you chuckle with such glee?” I put my head down and close my eyes. Not because I feel guilt but because I have to go through another explanation on why I don’t believe in fairy tales, or invisible men from the sky. This typically means a battle of right and wrong, truth and lies, my system against his.
I apologize kind sir, that I find it humorous that I am going to hell. A place with demons and torture devices for those who have lived a filthy life here on this earth. A place where the great Dante walked with a heart full of anguish for his fallen brothers and sisters. The old man stared at me with eyes wide open, a fixed look that any normal man would feel threatened by. Though I noticed something strange about this gaze. A certain drop of fear laid way back in the green eyes of the old man. He knew his look wasn’t enough to derail me from my path, my moving train. He knew he had his work cut out for him, that this was not going to be an easy battle.
He continued with a heavy breath. “Do you not worry what our Savior will do to the wicked when he comes again? The time is at hand, we will see the second coming of the lord?” I replied with a distasteful jab. Oh I believe that he will come again, just like I believe that Santa Clause will slide down my chimney every Christmas eve. What a glorious day that will be, don’t you agree? “Do not talk about the second coming with such ridicule! you are a lost soul Mr. Grainswick. A lost soul!”
I apologize sir, I didn’t think we were playing a game of hide in seek. Though it seems much like a game of cat and mouse, but I ask you who is the cat in this scenario? OOOH that reminds me, Do you ever wonder how Noah fit every single living animal on the planet on to a boat? I watch the gentlemen turn in his seat. “I do not question the word of god!” He replied boldly.
Then surely you are unaware of the word of Satan or any other being of power? “I do not worship Satan, unlike your filth.” It always made me smile when I new I had them under my palm. It usually starts with a blatant cut to a man’s character. The trick is to stay calm, and continue the questions. I continue, So what your saying is that you only worship God. I can understand that. However how can you fully understand your relationship with god if you dont ever see the other side of the great question? “I do not need to understand the other side of things when I have faith!” He said with a ferocious glare.
Ah I see. Faith. What is the definition of faith again? he didn’t answer. I think I remember reading somewhere, probably the dictionary, that the definition is a belief that is not based on proof. So technically all you can say to me is that your belief in god stems from your faith. Something you can’t prove. So in a way you are blindly following something you have no proof of. I smiled and tilted my head a little bit to the side. I was such an ass hole.
“Get OUT! GET OUT! You son of Satan!” he screamed. Slowly I stood from my chair and gathered my things. He was quiet. The tension in the room you could cut with a knife. I walked to the door and opened it. The cherry on the whip cream had to be added. I turned and spoke “I’ll see you next Sunday for dinner Father.”
-I had to add this hysterical video of the Book of Mormon Musical. So funny.