Last month we had an extended family dinner for a cousin who had just announced his engagement. The ‘grown-ups’ sat at one table and all the cousins (and their partners) sat at the other. One of the other cousins who usually sits at the grown-up table (delusions of maturity) decided to join us that night, for reasons beyond my comprehension.
He’s quite a character this cousin, whom I will refer to as Cadbury from here on, but I don’t think he even needs the full glass and a half before he’s well and truly past tipsy. The entire evening he was trying to give us life advice. How to cook, how to enrich our lives, how to ‘shine’… The cousins don’t usually say much in response to things like this because we were raised to be quiet (and polite, but sometimes that’s the same thing). So he kept going on.. and on… and ohgodspleasemakehimstop.
Some choice pearls of wisdom that he was so gracious to impart upon us:
“To cook well is to use fresh ingredients. So the trick to doing this is to only buy what you need.” - No. Shit. Sherlock.
“My parents, unlike myself, are flawed. They don’t understand what is important in life. I do, that’s why I shine.” - Oh really, I thought that rosy glow was the result of the alcohol you have imbibed this evening.
A lot of his advice was only served once he had decided he had accused you enough of not being as wonderful as he was. He interrogated engaged cousin and his fiancée (CF) about the last time they cooked. They don’t cook very much and he found this somewhat offensive and began to lecture about quality of life.
He told another two cousins that they look like they have the potential to shine, but they have to love themselves first (or something) and that he doesn’t have that problem at all (obviously).
There was also a lot of “When you get to my age…” the problem is, there’s only ten years between the eldest and the youngest cousin. And he was wearing my patience sorely thin. After the nth “When you get to my age” I had to interject with “And how old are you, grandfather?”.
Cadbury dominated the table conversation all evening but things came to a head when he asked CF what she would do if she had only 24 hours left to live (part of the ‘Quality of Life’ lecture). She replied that she would be at church praying.
He replied “Oh, so you’re Christian?” and she said “Yes.” Cadbury tried to determine how ‘Christianly’ she actually was by asking her when was the last time she went to church. She replied “Last Sunday” and he expressed complete surprise because he had expected her faith to be one of convenience.
Cadbury started asking about whether she believes in the gift of eternal life (she said ‘yes’) and tried to establish the strength of her belief. He said “If God manifested himself in front of you right now, and said that there is no such thing as eternal life, would you still believe in God?”
CF said “Yes.”
Cadbury replied “LIAR!”
I thought “Oh no you didn’t.”
He said “You would believe in God, even if he told you no such thing as eternal life?”
“Yes”
“I don’t believe you. If God manifested himself in front of me and told me I would have eternal life if I believed in him, I would and I would do everything in my power to achieve it.”
He also said things about how he isn’t Christian because he believes in the strength of his own skills and ability to do or get whatever he wants or needs. And he expressed his disbelief that people would believe in God even if the promise of the reward of eternal life didn’t exist.
It was around this time that I snapped.
I may not be religious, and I don’t like people forcing their faith upon me, but I acknowledge and respect that people have their beliefs. I also read about said beliefs because it’s what I do, I read. And whether it was Christianity, Islam or a potato, if someone says they believe in something, who are you to tell them they’re a liar just because you don’t believe yourself?
Not to mention this is their freaking engagement party and you’re antagonising the people whose party this is for to satisfy your arrogance and narrow-mindedness.
I also don’t appreciate people treating faith like a reward point system. You’re not collecting fucking Frequent Flyer miles that you can trade in for points+pay for your very own Eternal Life from the bloody catalogue.
In all fairness, there are people who are actually like that, and I am being a hypocrite with respect to those people for judging them on how they choose to demonstrate their faith. But how shallow would you have to be to treat the holy text of your faith, the entity you believe to be a Higher Power, for some their raison d’être, the way you treat discount coupons or stamps on a loyalty card? It just seems so cheap.
I said most of this at the cousin table, and directed it mainly at Cadbury, although without the swearing. Never have I been so vocal at a family gathering. And never have I felt as much anger towards any of my extended family as I did that night.
Besides that, what is the definition of eternal life anyway? All faiths have some interpretation of it. And it’s up to the person who believes to know how they feel about it and what they think it is or means.
Another cousin asked, “If all faiths have eternal life then what makes Christianity different? Why would someone choose it over another faith?”. This question made me think of when we were asked to upsell products when I was working call centre… It was a very peculiar feeling.
I ended up having to try to explain what I believed (hah) I understood of eternal life and defending faith. Most of you have no idea what a strange position this was for me. You know, the one whose relatives have called her a pagan or Godless heathen amongst other colourful and more interesting names.
It’s obvious that eternal life in the Christian definition isn’t physical immortality. Immortality of the soul or spirit? Perhaps. It could also be eternal life through reincarnation, becoming one with The Powers That Be, with the universe or your higher spiritual self. It could be any number of things depending on who you are, where you feel you sit in the Grand Design, cosmic scheme of things or whatever it is you feel most strongly about, or what gives you the most comfort to know or believe.
That might have been a faffy explanation, but there’s just so much that it could be depending on who you are and how you look at it. I couldn’t possibly articulate how big the question they asked was to them. It is not family dinner conversation at all. Not in the slightest.
And at the end of my stint on the soap box, at least two of the cousins asked me if I was Christian. I wanted to ask why in the hell do I have to be Christian to read and want to learn more about different beliefs and spirituality?
But that was, and is another rant for another time.
