I'm a mosaic - a fragmented, fractured collage of flotsam, jetsam and washed up driftwood. I'm not a clear fresh painting but a creation of doubts, questions and uncertainties. I do not understand those people who are so certain in their belief - or their unbelief - that they can dismiss questions and doubts without thinking, without consideration.
I had a parish priest once - Father Best - who doubted. His homilies were not what the comfortable, certain congregation wanted - Father Best challenged his faith, questioned what it was all about, explored what it meant to believe. He doubted in public. And there were mutterings; "this isn't what we come to mass for, we come to be assured of our salvation not laden with doubts."
What those certain folk do not understand is that doubt makes us human. Without doubt, without challenge, without question we become automata - mere machines stamping out our short time on earth to the rhythm of our masters, of whatever definite thing we choose to believe. Without doubt there is no magic, no discovery, no joy. And we must take the pain - the agony - of doubt with that joy. We must take it because it makes us what we are - independent, creative and exploring.
There are those who would have us be machines. Who want us to march in step with the wisdom that they impart to us. Who wish us not to doubt. These people are the evil ones - the ones who would deny the truth of humanity. Whether it be politics, religion or science, we must never ever condemn those who doubt, who question, who challenge. They may seem mad - we may beleive them mistaken. But their doubt is more important than our certainty.
I am a mosaic of doubts. I am certain only of the absence of certainty. And this imperfect pattern of bits and bats presents its face on the world - to challenge, to argue, to question and to say that your certainty is not so. And that fragmented, uneven picture lasts better than the smooth, unblemished coat of clear colour - it is real, living, a construct of doubt rather that certain truth.
It is life's mosaic...
....
Monday, 4 October 2010
Life's mosaic...
I'm a mosaic - a fragmented, fractured collage of flotsam, jetsam and washed up driftwood. I'm not a clear fresh painting but a creation of doubts, questions and uncertainties. I do not understand those people who are so certain in their belief - or their unbelief - that they can dismiss questions and doubts without thinking, without consideration.
I had a parish priest once - Father Best - who doubted. His homilies were not what the comfortable, certain congregation wanted - Father Best challenged his faith, questioned what it was all about, explored what it meant to believe. He doubted in public. And there were mutterings; "this isn't what we come to mass for, we come to be assured of our salvation not laden with doubts."
What those certain folk do not understand is that doubt makes us human. Without doubt, without challenge, without question we become automata - mere machines stamping out our short time on earth to the rhythm of our masters, of whatever definite thing we choose to believe. Without doubt there is no magic, no discovery, no joy. And we must take the pain - the agony - of doubt with that joy. We must take it because it makes us what we are - independent, creative and exploring.
There are those who would have us be machines. Who want us to march in step with the wisdom that they impart to us. Who wish us not to doubt. These people are the evil ones - the ones who would deny the truth of humanity. Whether it be politics, religion or science, we must never ever condemn those who doubt, who question, who challenge. They may seem mad - we may beleive them mistaken. But their doubt is more important than our certainty.
I am a mosaic of doubts. I am certain only of the absence of certainty. And this imperfect pattern of bits and bats presents its face on the world - to challenge, to argue, to question and to say that your certainty is not so. And that fragmented, uneven picture lasts better than the smooth, unblemished coat of clear colour - it is real, living, a construct of doubt rather that certain truth.
It is life's mosaic...
....
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