People are so imperfect.
No matter how much faith you put in them, they always seem to let you down, at least at one time or another.
I know. I must sound like I’ve just gone through some terrible betrayal recently or something. That’s not the case. Quite the opposite actually. I keep self-reflecting on how unreliable I, myself am at my core.
Well, I guess in a way I have gone through a betrayal, a self betrayal.
I expect others to depend on me because ‘reliable’ is a characteristic I’ve come to identify myself with, but in reality I let myself down so often that it’s a ludicrous request. Almost like I’m setting them up for failure out of some egocentric desire to prove that I can be sure of myself at the risk of others.
There’s that saying that friends come and go, but family never fails, but I think that’s an exaggeration. Even the most devoted of mothers fails her child in numerous ways throughout their life. That’s why people love to point to their messed-up childhood, no matter how perfect, and find excuses for why they are the way they are.
It’s so much easier to look outward for the cause of our imperfections, to point the chocolate smeared finger in another’s direction, all the while hiding the cookie jar behind our backs.
Humans are so flawed that they have given up looking inside themselves and trying to rectify what’s wrong. Our ugly souls are too scary to look at so we give up altogether.
A lot of people like to point to this as a main cause of religion. They say that we have allowed ourselves to become so weak that we like to turn to some Santa-faced deity to fix our problems for us.
God is a crutch, they say.
We don’t need him and he is therefore dead, they say.
But I wonder if the people who say that have ever wondered whether or not we turn to someone else because we’re not only weak, but right. Maybe we are too messed up to fix ourselves. Maybe we do need someone else. And maybe that cloud gazing instinct is a result of some programmed default feature that is triggered when we have finally exhausted our energy and options.
People are so imperfect.
Wouldn’t it be nice if there was some big, fluffy Papa in the sky to swipe away tears and reset our central processing units? Would it really be so wrong to rely on someone who was actually reliable? I know, I know. There’s suffering in the world. How can anyone view that as reliable?
I think an important question people forget to ask concerning the problem of suffering is who’s causing the suffering?
Is there a God wreaking havoc while he points and laughs? Is there a God sitting on his divine keister, watching us like television? Or maybe there’s a God reaching out to us in non-material ways that are so unanticipated we neglect to even acknowledge them.
Maybe he’s busy trying to help us fix our ugly souls.