A Man Unknown

On a more serious note, this has been eating at me for a while now and I think it’s time to write it down. A couple of years back my ex-wife’s grandfather passed away. My ex and I have always been on good terms and I had gone to her grandfather’s house every holiday. When I think of her grandfather I picture him wearing what appeared to be army issue glasses while affixed to a small couch in a tiny living room with only a television set between him an his wife in the attached kitchen. I would always be greeted with a quick wave and smile. What I knew of him back then has just been written above except that he enjoyed working in his garden and collecting coins. Sadly, I wouldn’t know that we had more in common until the day of his funeral. So as not to offend his family if they happen upon my little web site, we’ll just call him James for now. We filed into a thin room at the funeral home and were greeted by a solemn round-faced preacher who stood poised to give the same speech I had heard many times, or so I thought. “James had asked that his funeral not take place at the church” the preacher began awkwardly. There was a long pause as he tried to find words to replace the script he had memorised for such an occasion. That’s when it struck me. Wow! In a family full of die-hard Baptists he was a non-believer! I had never known him to go to church or take part in blessings before meals but I guess those things easily go unnoticed. “I had met with James a few times lately and tried to turn him to the lord” he continued in a somewhat defeated voice. “We can only hope he had a change of heart”. After stumbling over this topic for a few more sentences, he slipped into the diatribe of heaven and the promises of everlasting life being careful to omit anything that would infer that James was now in heaven. And thankfully also not mentioning where he thought James had ended up. You would think at this point, with the uncomfortable subject of his lack of faith out of the way, someone would step up to talk about who he was as a person. Maybe it was evangelistic guilt or peer pressure but none of the few who spoke on his behalf would say anything about James or of his life at all except that he loved to work in his garden. All of us like to believe we leave some sort of legacy when our lives end. Something that will carry on when we’re gone. When you really think about it, even the least conspicuous of us has some small impact on everyone we meet. Every action has some sort of consequence on world around us. Like rain on a pond, even the smallest of drops cause a ripple throughout it. James’ legacy will also be carried on biologically through his children. What bothered me most is that no one seemed to care about his life because he wasn’t a Christian. It seemed as if his entire existence was nothing more than an insult to their beliefs and needed to be dismissed. For Christmas after James had passed, I gave James’ daughter (my children’s grandmother) a bound notebook and a voice recorder so that she could record stories of her family to have published into a book for the kids to have when they’re older. I hope she will write about her father so my kids, and myself can know more about him.

Richard Dawkins and Pet Blessings

Sunday was a great day for an excursion to Duke University to hear Richard Dawkins speak about his new book, The Greatest Show on Earth. This was my first time on campus and I have to say, I was very impressed.

My wife and I had arrived early to have a couple of books signed. Professor Dawkins' events were aptly located just across from the towering Duke chapel which was expelling a fresh batch of simplified minds as we walked past.

It wouldn't strike me until later in the day, but I realized that the contented flock leaving the chapel may have received the same feeling of comfort from their pastor as I would receive from Dr. Dawkins. Confirming our understanding of our place in the world is a very gratifying thing, especially when you are relating to someone you admire and respect.

Professor Dawkins was just as eloquent and thoughtful as I had expected. One thing I hadn't really picked up on until I heard him in person is the way he spoke with an unembellished honesty that naturally directs one towards reality. It's a very liberating feeling being able to think without maintaining lies or failed logic and on this Sunday Professor Dawkins was the personification of that liberation for a room full of grateful people.

With followers still leaving the Chapel, I pondered on the amount of constant reinforcement it must take to maintain such a disconnect from the natural world. For those who can restrain their minds and ignore reason, it does seem to provide a level of peace, no matter how silly the pretense. Since services were over we could safely walk through the Chapel.

The Gothic architecture was an amazing work of art. Although not for the same reasons as its worshipers, I found it to be inspirational. The shear amount of effort it must have taken to build such a place was hard to put into perspective. A small choir of children lost in the immensity, occasionally filled the space with a chorus of song as they practiced. We walked along a row of huge columns awash with light from stained glass windows stretching to an unreasonable height before gracefully transforming into the ribbed vault ceiling. To me, it was more a symbol of the industry of religion than a tribute to a higher being, but an inspirational feat of engineering nonetheless.

When I was child in church I remember feeling as if an invisible, deadly version of Santa Clause were hovering over me. I wondered if the children in the choir felt the same uneasy presence. For me, the ghosts and magic have faded to memories.

Leaving the Chapel, we approach the arches leading into the square. Here, we are greeted by a father and son offering a possible explanation to the odd sight beyond them by the thodding and thunking noises of a soccer ball being batted back and forth between the outer shells of their brains. The event scheduled shortly after Dr. Dawkins' engagement, for which around 100 people were waiting, was The Blessing of the Pets.

Families with dogs, people carrying fish bowls, various caged rodents and cats all waiting to have their pet ...blessed! If there's anything I admire about the self-lobotomized mythology worshipers, it's the ability to maintain their level of cognitive dissidence. Were none of these people thinking it strange to have a blessing put upon their pets? I immediately had scores of questions myself.

Doesn't a pet need to be blessed of its own free will? Are they hoping to change the pet's behavior and subvert God's will or are they trying to get the pet into heaven? Aren't humans supposed to be the only godly creations with souls? If pets do have souls, how can you enjoy your heavenly paradise if your heavenly roommate's cockatoo squawks for all eternity? Do angels patrol the streets of gold to make sure you bag your doggie droppings? and why, I wondered, standing in the stone shadow of indulgent opulence itself, ...would one hae a want of gold in heaven in the first place? Hmmm...

Thud... thonk, thud... thonk. I sighed and turned from the surreal scene leaving the participants to their rituals. Sufficiently inspired and amused, we started our drive home taking a priceless day of experience with us.

The Greatest Show on Earth is Dawkins' latest book which steps back in the conversation of evolution to examine the actual evidence. I have just started reading and would definitely recommend this book just on the first chapter. Another of his books I'll be reading soon is the lesser known, Climbing Mt. Improbable, which he mentioned as one of his favorites.