I went on a trip to Kiev when I was about 11. It was with my dancing buddies — believe it or not, I used to be pretty decent at dancing when I was little.
A part of this trip was going to the underground caves in an orthodox monastery. Truly something to see.
The excursion through the caves was lead by a woman in her 70s, she was grumpy and took no pleasure that a bunch of kids are running through the final resting places of people now considered saints.
At the very end of the tour, the very last room you go through has a beautiful painting on the wall. It’s a huge tree with its roots reaching into hell under the beautiful field and the top of its branches reaching the heavens in the clouds.
Her last topic of discussion was marriage and children being born out of wedlock. I’m sure it was well meant, to help restrain what was on every youngsters mind. But I heard her and had to double check if I got what she was saying correctly.
It went like this
— I’m sorry, did you just say that children born out of wedlock (and of sin) are destined to hell?
— Yes child, why do you ask?
— My mum and dad never married. He left when I was one month old.
— I am sorry. The good book says there is no hope for you. Bastard children must pay for the sins of their parents.
That left a mark. Up until that day, religion was the truth. But after that statement, it became something I dismissed as pointless and unnecessary. Because what else could I do? If religion is the word of God, try as I might, I am doomed just for being born with no redemption in sight.
It is only recently that I have learned to not be so literal in my understanding of the bible. Yes, we are destined to hell. But hell is not a place you go to after you die. Hell is something you live through when your single mother struggles to put food on your table and when you miss everything a father could be for you. The good book is right.
Every man needs his church. I find mine where I can. Sometimes it’s in a book. Sometimes it’s while hanging on for dear life on my motorcycle. Sometimes it’s meditation. Today’s church is one of my favourites.
BOXBOX feels just like a meditation, even though visually they’re nothing alike. It’s something I’ll never be great at. Just like meditating. The goal post always moves further away from you. As you become better, new horizons appear and new challenges are set. Destined to always work on improving oneself, but never reaching perfection.
Church to me is something that stops me and reminds me that I have much to learn. I am not great. I may never be, but I’m working on it.