Religion - Pope Shug Style!

I'm sure the title alone is enough to spark a blue touch-paper somewhere or another!!

As I said yesterday, I've been writing a short story, which had a distinctly religious theme - what would happen if a rough-as-sandpaper, former shipyard worker turned priest was accidentally elected Pope. It is written as a piece of humour, but it also got me thinking.

If I post it, how likely is it that I would (inadvertently) offend any Catholic friends I may have.  I think that all the Catholic people I know have fairly robust senses of humour (or should that be sense of humours... it's a lexicographic conundrum!) and would not be offended by what is clearly a satire based on a scenario which, whilst technically possible, would never ever occur. Yet, it is the thought of offending any of them which has made me think "is posting it really such a good idea?"

I also got thinking about religion in a wider sense. I should say at this juncture, that I have no religious leanings whatsoever, I'm a confirmed agnostic, yet I have an ongoing fascination with religion. Not the theological side of it, but the history and development, the differences and indeed, similarities between them. Take the Virgin birth - everyone knows that's Christian, right? Right. But also wrong. Take Buddhism for example.

"When, as Bodhisat, he ceased to belong to the hosts of the heaven of Delight, he descended into his mother’s womb mindful and self-possessed."

Seems a bit virgin-birthy, does it not. What about ancient Egyptian, Horus, Osaris, Isis... There was a whole bunch of people not having sex, but still having kids. Hinduism too:

“The divine Vishnu himself descended into the womb of Devaki" and was born as her son"

That sure seems familiar... Now, please don't think I'm trying to mock any of these religions, or their beliefs - I have no right to so do, and no intention of so doing. I use these as examples of why religion is so fascinating.  Flood stories are the same, religions all over the world have flood tales, not just the Abrahamic religions, various South American religions have the very same, and bear in mind, these religions developed at a time when it is thought there was no travel between continents, no cross-pollenisation of ideas, besides, even if people from Israel, for example, did somehow get lost and wind up in Peru, the chances of them speaking anything like the same language is pretty slim!

I started thinking about this when I was in the sauna at the gym (feel free to savour that thought, ladies!), which also got me thinking, if I had to be religious, which religion would I take... Islam? Sadly, no, whilst fascinating, I am, after all, Scottish, so would miss the occasional glass of wine here and there. Christianity? Again, probably not, that would seem to just be going with the flow. Judaism? I'd actually be tempted there, and I'm sure that you are wondering why.  Then, I shall tell!

Two of the most inspiring and amazing people it has ever been my fortune to get to meet were both Jewish. Neither knew the other, yet like so many Jewish people of a certain age, they had a common bond. I'm sure you don't need me to spell it out.

When I was young, about 13/14 a good friend of mine from school was Jewish. Fraser his name was (and if you are sitting there thinking "that's not a very Jewish name", his mother was called Rachel, his father's name escapes me, but his Rabbi grandfather was Abraham) and there were many times where I'd be at his house (on a Sunday, never a Saturday) and I would be invited to stay for dinner, which was always so much fun. His grandfather was a stereotypical Hassidic Jew, the forelocks, the kippah (he didn't like it being called a yarmulke for some reason), and the wide brimmed hat. He was obviously held in great esteem by all who visited the house, myself included, but not because he was a Rabbi, but because he was a genuinely nice old man who never made me anything other than welcome and tolerated the endless questions I asked him about Judaism, never once answering anything other than factually and in a way that made it interesting.

Then one Sunday, I was a Fraser's house, we had been out playing football or something, I don't clearly remember what, but I will always remember the conversation I had with Rabbi Abraham.  He asked me how I was doing at school, so I told him of a film I saw.  During 1st and 2nd year at the high school I attended, RE (Religious Education) was compulsory (for most - there were exceptions, ironically only for people of certain religions - I seem to recall that Jehovas Witnesses were allowed to opt out, possibly others, it doesn't matter anyway), and one week during class, we were invited to a screening of a Biopic after school. To this day, I have no idea what prompted me to go, but I did. The movie was about a young girl, growing up in Poland during the 30s. You already know where this is going, don't you. Sadly, to my eternal disappointment, I can't remember the woman's name, but the movie told the story of how she and her family were all rounded up and sent to Treblinka Concentration Camp. By some miracle, this girl (as she was then) was released. It transpired that it was a mistake in administration, and she almost didn't go, she was determined that she would stay with her family, but her mother arranged it so that she would be taken when she was asleep and removed from the camp, knowing it was the only way she would leave. Needless to say, everyone perished, apart from the little girl who not only managed to get out, but then, once the German administrators of the camp realised their error and set out to look for her, evaded them long enough to escape first to a neutral country (I think it was Sweden), and then on to the UK.

After the movie showed, we were told that there was a guest of honour and it was, of course, the woman whose story we had just watched. She was an old lady by then of course, but she was happy to spend as long as we kids wanted, answering questions, telling us about her life after the camp, and how she prayed for the soul of her mother who saved her life every single day.  Anyway, as the hall at school started to empty, most of the people just filed straight out, but a few kids, myself included, went over to her to thank her for coming - it seemed like the least we could do - and she looked genuinely pleased that we had taken that little bit of time to some over to say that. What struck me was that even though she was smiling, it was almost like her eyes refused to smile along with the rest of her, that her eyes, having seen what they had seen, had nothing but sadness in them.

So, as I relayed this story to Rabbi Abraham, this old man, this mountain of an old man (he was well over 6 feet tall and, shall we say, portly, as his generation tended to be!) cried. I was shocked, and immediately started to apologise, thinking that I had somehow offended him somehow. He silenced me and told me the story of his family - his mother and father were able to escape persecution in Germany as they had relatives in Scotland, hence he and his family living in Dunfermline now, but many of his family did not, and were never seen again. Then this old guy thanked me. He actually thanked me tor taking time out of my life to watch the movie about the woman, to listen to her story.

I'm sure I had a point at the start of this ramble, but I don't recall it now. Today is the first time I thought about these stories in I have no idea how long - certainly years anyway.

It looks like I will be ending every blog with a "Jerry Springer" style bon-mot, so today it will be this:  Enjoy your religion. Celebrate it, take comfort from it. But don't force it on anyone else. Most non-religious people don't have a problem with people of religion, and those who do will be, in my experience anyway, assholes in general, but accept that there are differences in people, and celebrate that too.

Tomorrow, maybe, the first couple of chapters of Pope Shug!