Well that was the worst Super Bowl I’ve ever had the misfortune of not watching. In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t. I would have been fed up by the time the Old Guys (er, I mean the Rolling Stones) came out to rock out and jump around.
I did, however, watch one play. It was the end of the first quarter, when Hasselbeck threw a very nice pass to the endzone, where what’s-his-name (I wasn’t paying that much attention due to mass amounts of chicken wings in front of me) caught it. Touchdown, Seahawks!…right? Wrong. The ref throws a flag claiming that Endzone Guy pushed off from the Steeler covering him. As anybody with at least two brain cells can tell you, there was no push. They were touching, yes, as most players do when covering, but when the Seahawk player went to catch the ball, he didn’t push the other guy. If there had been a push, the Steeler would have moved. But he didn’t. And the ref, who was standing right there called it a push and the Seahawks had to settle for a field goal. I’m told the game went downhill from there, with Roethlisberger (the Steelers quarterback), pushing a downed ball across the endzone line for a “touchdown.” Pathetic. Apparently, the 12th man is no match for blind and unbiased officials. At least they didn’t penalize Seattle for the helmet incident in the first quarter. They almost did, though. I suppose it was too obvious of a non-penalty to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes.
Yes, I’m bitter.
Anyways, I had a good weekend. I went to the Construction Zone down in Seattle (a big Christian youth gathering) and had a blast, as well as a moment. Yes, I, Cody the Cynic, had a moment. It was pretty deep, I must say. You see, on Saturday night, we did an experiential prayer thing. Lectio Divinia, the guy called it. The idea was not only to speak to God, but to get an answer in return. Most of you know my feelings on the subject, and that night was no different. I thought it was pure hogwash going in. However, I decided to try something. All day Saturday, I had seen such devotion to religion and spirituality around me, and it bothered me that I didn’t seem to have the same thing. Even when I tried, I hadn’t ever received an answer from God. Of course, most people would call me weak for having given up so easily, but it wasn’t easy to give up my faith. I honestly wanted to believe in God, but if he didn’t answer, how could I know he was there? I’m not the type to have blind faith. I need some sort of sign.
And I got one that night. During the Lectio Divinia, I held my head in my hands and seriously prayed. I said, “God, are you there? I want you to be, but I just don’t know. Just give me some sort of sign. Tell me you’re actually there like all these people believe.” And then I just started crying. I’m not one for spontaneous weeping, especially not in a room full of teenagers. But I did. Everything I had pent up inside just flooded out. I’m not quite sure what kind of answer that was, but I can tell you, it was one. Afterward, I felt both emotionally drained and happier than I had felt in a long time. My belief in mainstream Christianity is still tenuous at best, but I’m no longer an agnostic.
On the other side of the issue, however, the Zone reminded me that I still hate the way most of Christianity is run. Especially the idea that you can believe whatever you want, as long as you have Jesus in your heart. I heard that way too many times over the weekend. I personally hold the belief that you’ll be rewarded somehow for being a good person. Heaven, Nirvana, Valhalla, whatever. I refuse to believe that an atheist who gives everything he owns to help the poor will go to hell when a greedy Christian who believes in God will go to heaven. That’s pure bullshit if I’ve ever heard it. And I did numerous times. It bugged me to no end. There was even one speaker–an ex-druggie/rock singer–who preached to us that if you didn’t go to church every Sunday (he used the example of going on a picnic), you’re letting Satan into your heart, and you’ll eventually end up like him: lost, confused, and addicted to crystal meth. He seriously scared me. Anyone who prays to God about what restaurant they should eat at should be avoided at all costs, especially when they’re trying to convince you that you should have conversations “worthy of Jesus.” Now, having such strong faith is admirable, but I want no part of it. I’m no zealot.
Over that weekend, I had a few deep and meaningful conversations with Lindsay and found out that she’s in the same boat as me, meaning that she feels it’s unfair to assume only Christians can be good and loving individuals. I’ll not go into anything personal, but I feel our relationship got that much stronger over the weekend. And I’m definitely glad for her being there when I broke down. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.
Speaking of crying, how unmanly can I get? I should be slapped with a raw steak and forced to watch Rambo repeatedly. I vahnt to be mahre like Ahnald.
Also, I got a two-year University of Washington Undergraduate Scholar Award for $4,000, in the form of $667 a quarter for my freshman and sophomore years. I’m one of only 250 entering freshmen who received the award. Sweetness.
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