Today is the day my grandmother is laid to rest next to her husband, Harry Brown. The funeral was emotional and draining but also jovial at the same time. There were words she had given her eulogizer, unbeknownst to the family, that have been stuck in my head ever since. “Tell my family I was not afraid to die… I am going to be with my friend Jesus.” As she was a practicing Catholic, I honestly believe she meant those words and I have to admit I’m somewhat jealous.
I was raised in what I would call a “reformed Catholic” household. As kids, my dad was an alter boy and my mom wasn’t allowed to eat meat on Fridays… but when they grew up, the practice eroded somewhat. We went to church on major holidays, didn’t eat meat on Friday’s during Lent and both my sister and I had First Communion after attending CCD but I was never Confirmed. As I grew older, traditions weakened even further with a divorce, neither of us kids getting married in The Church and the complete absence of church attendance in recent years.
Anyone who knows me knows The Church and I don’t really see eye to eye. Actually, organized religion and I don’t exactly agree on most things and as such, I haven’t been a part of any one of them as an adult. Familiarizing myself with many of the popular religions in the world, there were always bits and pieces I liked but never found one that I identified with entirely. After more research than probably healthy, I would eventually realize Deism is what best describes what I believe. For those who don’t want to read the linked article, it basically means you believe in God and that he created the Universe… but he’s way too busy to meddle in our affairs or ask that we worship him.
One of the fringe aspects of Deism is the existence of an afterlife. I want to believe in it but I don’t have faith such a thing actually exists. The idea that we will be reunited with our loved ones in heaven is a comforting one, but how do I reconcile that with wondering whether or not just humans make it there? If I’m to believe we are the only species worthy, how do explain my belief in other life forms somewhere in the Universe (no, I don’t think they’ve visited this planet)? Does that mean my childhood pets won’t be waiting for me? If they are, where in the Animal Kingdom is the cut-off? Should I not be killing flies because I’m harming God’s creatures?
Questions lead to more questions, which lead to more uncertainly and ultimately the admission of the possibility that this life may be all we have. Faith, as blind as it can be, has its advantages. One of those advantages is the belief in an afterlife and with that, peace with or acceptance of death as a transition. I don’t mean to say I envy faith in it’s entirety, because I value enlightenment over anything else, but it’s hard to dismiss the value of the peace of mind it brings.