Relapsa
One simple word, and one for which
a few hundred years ago, I would
have been burned. What does it mean?
That I have turned my back on what
they so arrogantly deem
the One True Faith.
Honestly.
Like they could know, like anyone
could summon enough evidence to
prove their faith in a court of law,
with no shades of doubt marring
the sunlit perfection of their
self-involved delusions.
That,
however, is not the issue. It's no
trouble of mine if their hubris
drags them down in the end. The
issue on my hands is that of my
grievous sin, the tremendous fault
of throwing off chains and being liberated.
Freedom,
the same that they enjoy within the
confines of their own faith, yet they would
so cheerfully deny it to others. I am told
that they hope I will find the truth faith
someday. I tell them I have already. I know
what is true in my heart.
Relativity.
They angrily ask how my truth could
possibly be different from theirs. Morals,
truths, faiths… all are relative. There are
no Absolutes in this world. And yet they
are so quick to cast stones, so quick to
condemn me for the fault of having an opinion.
Why?
Every once in a while, some intrepid soul
takes the trouble to ask me why I am
relapsa. With a smile, I reply that I escaped
from a faith that was strangling my soul.
Pious vows, drinking blood and eating body,
mumbling creeds and singing hymns…
Nothing.
All of that did not so much as stir
my soul. And isn't that what religion
ought to be? A movement of the spirit? And
yet these proselytizers would rather I cling
to a faith that does not move me, so long
as it is theirs and they can count another for their cause.
Once
I was one of theirs, another child
mindlessly accepting what she was told, a
dainty angel who sang in their choir and carried
their candles. But as I grew, as I matured,
I realized that this path was not the one for me,
that my destiny lay along a different line.
Yet
so many would deny me this most basic liberty,
to choose what I believe. The girl then was
marked by confusion, as plenty would tell her what to do,
but none cared if their commands could be
reconciled with what song her heart
chose to play, what notes her soul knew.
Never
again. That was the girl in chains, but the woman
now is liberated, and no force on this earth
or beyond could force me back. How could
anyone, knowing the sweetness of fresh air,
return to the putrescence and squalor
of a dark and stifling dungeon?
Choice
is for me the most delicious privilege
we humans are born to. For some,
the faith I ran from is entrancing and
uplifting, and I wish them well of it.
I was not meant for those bonds, but
like my kindred phoenix to soar.
Denying
this basic right, claiming moral superiority
over another person's heart, standing
atop the hallowed heights and proclaiming
one faith greater than another… few acts
could be so inherently wrong, so
murderous against the human spirit.
Relapsa
I am, and relapsa I am proud to be.
I have stood up for myself and the
faith that rings clear in my own heart.
No one has the right to take that from me, to
shame and abhor me, simply because my
heart does not resonate in the same pitch as theirs.
[Authoress's Note:
[As always, I place my disclaimer that I am fully aware not all Christians are like the ones I chide. And, as always, I know not only Christians are guilty of oppressing other faiths. But I've never had a Hindu lecture me on the evil of my ways and say he'd pray for me, so until that happens, I have personal experience only with the Christians.]