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realized that we are supposed to take religious matters as articles of faith, which means
to be quiet and accept them, however odd they may appear. Such faith is usually a veil for
our human needs or for superstitions that cannot stand scrutiny. I couldnt suppress
myself from thinking in the name of faith in something, like the miracles of Jesus, which
had little to do with me and seemed impossible. The figure of Jesus on the cross that we
saw during mass was rather gruesome and unpleasant. One didnt want to look at it. We
were told that we had all killed Jesus.
We were responsible for
his death by our sins, which were terrible in the eyes of God. But then I never knew Jesus
and since he lived two thousand years ago, how could my actions have affected him? I
could never really relate to the image of the sacrificed savior who saves us, we who
cannot save ourselves. I also began to notice that we all have our personal failings,
including the nuns that taught us who had evident tempers and not much patience. The whole
thing didnt seem to be as God given as we were told it was.
The Christian God who had to sacrifice his own son
to save humanity was a figure of both fear and enigma. This strange God created the devil
as well. And of course we were all afraid of the devil and his retinue, particularly at
night or on Halloween. This strange God was distant and unapproachable and yet demanded so
much of his creatures.