Religious Tug-of-War

Camille De BeusStaff WriterI was four and spending the day with my grandmother at a coffee shop. She asked me what I had done earlier that day, and I told her I had just been to church. From there things became more complicated for my young mind. She told me that church was a waste of time, because there was no point in spending a good portion of your day worshiping something that you had no proof existed. She had a point. But then again, my mother had told me that if I wanted to go to heaven, I must attend church.That was most of my childhood in a nutshell. I was stuck in a game of tug-of-war. On one side was my mother, an extremely strict Catholic woman. On the other side, my grandmother, an Atheist. My mother would preach if I wished to go to heaven, I had to follow Catholic teachings and beliefs. My grandmother scoffed at the existence of God and told me religious people were crazy.It was a confusing and strange way to grow up. For the longest time I didn’t know what to believe. When I was with my grandmother I laughed at the idea of some God existing “up there,” when there was no scientific proof of it. I’d agree with her ideas that all believers were deranged.But when I was with my mother, she would drag me to church and tell me that those who did not attend could not go to heaven. She was my mother, and what she said must be true, so I would sit in church hoping that God would forgive me for scorning his existence. I’d also question him. I didn’t think it was fair that only those who attended church could go to heaven. What about my grandmother? I didn’t want her to burn in hell because she simply did not know that believing in God would save her. It didn’t seem fair to me. “Why should it matter?” I asked my mother. “Shouldn’t you get to go to heaven as long as you’re good?”Internally, I was torn. I didn’t want to burn in hell forever, however I also did not enjoy the stifling church and boring priest with a sermon that a young child had no interest in hearing.My mother and grandmother are surprisingly close, considering the often strained relationship women have with their mother-in-law. However, the fundamental difference is present and there is always an awkward pause in conversation when religion is brought up. Then my grandmother preaches her opinion, while my mother remains silent.I could not help but wonder which opinion was right. Could both of them be wrong? My mother’s preaching was so convincing that I could not help but wonder if God was judging me for every move that I made, trying to decide whether I belonged in heaven or was destined to burn in hell. At the same time, my grandmother’s views seemed so logical, since there no scientific proof of any God.For a while, I did not decide. With my grandmother I laughed at religion and those who worshiped some God that did not exist. With my mother, I worried about what would happen to me when I died, and worse what could happen to everyone I knew that did not believe in God and were surely condemned to an afterlife in hell.Growing up on this twisting road has brought me to one conclusion. Religion is not bad. Neither is atheism. What can make both of these turn sour is a closed mind. If you want to live a life where you worship a donkey that lives on the dark side of the moon then so be it, and if you want to live a life without a God, that’s okay too. People should be allowed to make their own decisions when it comes to personal beliefs and they shouldn’t be heckled for what they believe in. However, I am glad that I grew up being pushed and pulled in very different religious directions. It’s made me more accepting of people’s backgrounds and beliefs, which is something that I feel is worth acquiring.cdebeus@thesamohi.com