I used to write about faith at this blog fairly frequently. I haven't in a long time. A year or so, I suppose.

My religious beliefs have been in flux for a long time. For as long as I can remember, really. I was raised Southern Baptist, and my religious upbringing wasn't a positive experience for me. During my mid 20's I was a militant agnostic: "I don't know and you don't, either." By my early 30's I became nominally pro-religion; I began to think that religion did more good than bad for most people, and although I maintained that it wasn't for me, I generally saw it as a force for good.

Then I got divorced and 9/11 happened and I panicked. For whatever reason I decided that it was important that I nail down exactly where I stood on religion. I started reading the Bible and C.S. Lewis and something clicked. I've gone from content agnostic to enthusiastic Catholic convert in the last few years, and at every stage along the way I've always been very happy to force my beliefs on the people around me.

Never in a positive way, though. My approach, my foundation, has always been "You're wrong! Here's why!"

I think that maybe the only thing I've ever really believed in is the blunt force of my own opinion.

I began to realize over the past year that my religious convictions were a house of cards. 2008 has been an awful year. It began with the culmination of some serious marital problems. Just as it began to look like my marriage might survive, a good friend of mine died out of the blue. Well, what happened was, first my friend's daughter committed suicide, and then about a month later he had a heart attack and died. I was still trying to sort that out when I was diagnosed with cancer in June. I've had three tumor resections since then and I'm going to have another next month.

And, yes, I might be endulging myself with more self-pity than these circumstances really warrant.

The worst of all of this was what happened with my friend. I haven't written about it here for two reasons. One reason is that I didn't want to trivialize the loss of my friend's daughter and his subsequent death by writing about it at a blog that's primarily dedicated to YouTube videos and fart jokes. The main reason that I haven't written about it, though, is that thinking about it hurts so godamn much that I just try to avoid thinking about it at all.

My friend's daughter died and there was absolutely nothing inside of me that enabled me to offer him any comfort. Don't misread what I wrote: I didn't complain that I couldn't comfort him. I was totally incapable of even trying to comfort him. This was a guy I loved and I was totally incapable of making a gesture beyond "I'm sorry for your loss." It ate at me, it kept me up at night, but I only came up empty handed. The truth of the matter was that, deep down, I simply believed that my friend's daughter was gone. Just gone.

And then one morning he was gone, too. And I think the main thing I feel about that is anger.

All of this stuff happened and I realized that there was nothing (absolutely NOTHING) built into the foundation of my faith that prepared me to handle it. I began to think that the reason I'd been drawn to the Catholic Church was really just that I line up very well with the Church's politics. I already believe what the Church teaches with regard to abortion, the death penalty, charity, etc. It was a good match.

But as far as the "spiritual core" of my beliefs, I'm as uncertain and as lost as I've ever been. I do know, though, that I've never had a transcendent experience. Not once. And I don't even want one. I don't want cause to doubt my own sanity any more than I already do. I still have this deep need to figure out where I'm coming from, to figure out what I believe and why, but I just have no idea where to go from here.

Here's the truth of my beliefs. These are the things that I believe deep down, and I don't know how to change them, or if I should change them, or what to do about them. I believe in God. I don't know why he'd feel anything but contempt or maybe pity for humanity, but I do believe in a God of some sort. I believe in altruism and love and kindness, I believe, in fact, that those are the only things that make life worth living. I don't believe in any sort of afterlife. I think that death is the end, that death is final, and that it's always a hair's breath away. I think life is fragile and mostly futile, and that it's still a wonderful, wonderful thing. The most important thing in the entire world to me is my son ... and I believe that all of the immortality that there is going to be for me will be in whatever good I'm able to pass along to him. If I'm able to be a good enough father for him to be able to look back in fifty years and say "I guess the old man wasn't a total shithead," then I think I'll have done well. I'll have been a better father than I ever had, anyway.

Those are the things I believe deep down and I don't know why I believe them, other than those seem like natural conclusions to me. I don't know what to do with those beliefs or how to reconcile them with the Church, with Christianity, with faith or with the world in general. Oh, and get this: I still believe that the Roman Catholic church is the best thing out there. Talk about being conflicted.

I know that one or two of my Christian friends are going to read this and be tempted to send me e-mails to try to reason with me. I appreciate it, but it won't really help. Trust me, I've been trying like hell to reason with myself for the past year.

If you want something poetic or philosophical, this is the best I can offer: I can't explain why or exactly what it is about it, but there's something essential about the things I believe in the lyrics to the Black Crowes song A Thorn In My Pride. That's the best I can offer, and it's typical of me. When in doubt, I come back to rock and roll.

I'm writing all of this because Scott at Spiritual Tramp posted this video that I saw today and it moved me to tears:

Generally, I've come to realize in the past year that the best thing I can do is keep all of this to myself. I made a couple of attempts to discuss these feelings with friends at one point earlier this year and I only managed to offend them. That is the one thing I'm good at. Even when I'm not trying (and I usually am trying), I can offend people like nobody's business. It comes naturally to me, I guess.

But the things Penn Jillette had to say hit me like a wrecking ball. I felt like I had to write something. If you've read this, thank you for indulging me.

Man, I really hope 2009 is a fairly innocuous year.

Labels: Bladder Cancer, Blogs, Faith, Politics, You Tube