Theological Coffee Talk

Okay, so to be more than a little pedantic, this is more about a talk over two cups of chai tea and hot chocolate, but it was in an actual coffee shop, so the title is still appropriate.

There, ya happy? I am, so let's carry on.

I am not one who is now, or hopefully ever be, prone to having a Messiah Complex. Given as how I seem to have more complexes in my head than Nike does on their 40-something acres of world headquarters only a few miles away, having another seems an ill-advised idea.

Also, my relationship with any sort of "Almighty" has been well-documented as much more adversarial than affectionate, and like the oft-irrational and wounded child I am capable of being, I still contend "He" started it, and I suppose if I ever get an answer from the Great Beyond akin to "Nuh-uh!" then I'll know my views on the matter need some serious adjusting.

That said, I met a college friend I hadn't seen in a few years on Saturday and in the course of our two-hour conversation, which admittedly went all over the board and saw me as I always am saying way more things than I probably should, there was a moment where I was told something I don't think I've ever been less prepared to hear.

"I know you're an atheist, but I see so much of God in you," my friend said.

Now, a statement on its own means nothing without putting it in context. My friend and her husband are both of a Christian background and are still active in studying it. I grew up Roman Catholic and walked away from it a long time ago in favor of the Eastern philosophies and "religions" I currently am learning about. I don't believe in a "God". She does, and I'm perfectly fine with that. Like I've always said, everybody needs something, and I'm not one to judge your particular spiritual something if it works for you.

As my conversations are prone to these days, the observation was made after I explained to her what my life is now and where I started from, because she didn't know. When we were in school together, I actually knew her husband better than I knew her, because we shared some writing classes together. So this was the first chance we really had to sit down and have the "getting to know" chat we all have.

When I heard that, my mental recorder rewound the tape for a second then played it back to make sure I'd heard it right. Not because I was taken aback, but because I was kind of confused by how she could see that.

Bear in mind, I was all of 16 when someone with a profoundly opinionated religious background proclaimed me to actually be the physical embodiment of Satan himself to the rest of my high school, because I was playing Magic: The Gathering at the time. At 19, I was branded a villain of the worst order by someone who had no idea what my life to that point had been like, and also didn't care to know.

Living with the notion that I am more than somewhat of an evil character became very easy for me because I heard that pretty much everywhere I went, and over time, I believed it on some basic level just through the repetition. So to have someone who didn't know me all that well suddenly turn around and say that in her view it's actually the polar opposite?

To quote Marcellus in Hamlet (Act I, Scene IV), "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark."

Except what she went onto tell me is that the things I've been doing in the last few years is more in line with what the New Testament teaches and in the current climate we live in, it's a rarity. I understand that it won't help me or those I want to be in my life by being close-minded, judgmental, vindictive, bitter, sanctimonious or condescending. So why be that way when you can just be something better?

I don't know if I'll ever be okay with the comparison, to be honest, only because my view of what can be considered "Holy" (for lack of a better term) is beyond our reach as human beings. We look to religion and myth, both ancient and contemporary, because they give us perfect ideals to strive towards, even though we know we can't get there.

I am not a god, nor do I ever want to be because I know myself well enough to know I would be both lousy and very corruptible with the power it would bring. At the end of the day, I maybe have a better understanding of the nature of good and evil than the average bear, and I'm okay with that.

When we finally left and parted company, she said something else I hadn't heard in a while which warmed my heart a bit.

"You're amazing," she said.

The last time I was acknowledged like that, it was by someone I care about very much, and I wasn't expecting it then either. But I liked how it felt to be seen that way.

Amazing is a good word. I can do amazing...if I try hard enough.