In a country in an age of relativism, one begins to wonder if there are really any absolutes. It prompts an examination of one’s beliefs, ideals, and definitions of the everyday things: “How did I get that?” “Why do I think like this?” “Did I come to this conclusion on my own, or was I hand-fed?”
Before the beginning of my own self-examination and self-definition, I could be offended quite easily. I would constantly hear those older than me, college students mostly, call out young Christians. “The only reason you think that way is because you’re parents do, you’ve never questioned it,” they would say. Of course they applied this statement not only to religious views, but also political, social, racial, educational, and the list goes on.
I think anyone, when initially questioned about his or her beliefs, will respond in a very defensive manner, which of course I did. Sometimes, this can be almost unreasonable (although understandable). But hopefully, there is a second reaction, regardless of how much later it takes effect. Words are incredibly powerful, and despite the intelligence of the person wielding them, sometimes you can’t help but let them seep in.
I tend to be very introspective, and although opinions flow as freely as the extortionist-priced fuel we inevitably consume, sometimes I feel the need to actually stop . . . and listen.
After I allowed my pride to take enough of a hit to truly consider my beliefs and their original source, I began a fulfilling (while at times confusing and frustrating) pursuit. It led me through theological discussions, environmental research, many different schools, and even- many different friends.
I realize now that instead of a pursuing “truth,” I was really pursuing identity. Not that I didn’t have one to begin with, but just that I was so horrified with being . . . that person. That person that is so incredibly passive about their receipt of knowledge and opinion, that it’s difficult to take them seriously.
Please don’t misunderstand, it’s not even that I necessarily disagree with these types of people or their opinions at all, but often it appears that what they mistake for passion and personal conviction is actually just a desperate attempt to hold on to their safety blanket. AKA: pre-established ideas that were covertly passed off as their own since childhood.
However, I do respect a certain amount of teaching and instruction. Parents instill particular notions and beliefs in their child because they believe they’re right. Can you ever imagine raising your child with beliefs opposing your own? Not going to happen.
I suppose my issue is just with: never questioning anything. I’m not encouraging a complete upheaval of your personal world (or that of your parents). Because to me, that is just simply: rebellion.
Of course, there are rare cases of those who really discover themselves, by accident, in those situations. However, I feel like those decisions are made more in the frantic pursuit of independence rather than true identity. (Which is normal, but I want to distinguish the difference in motives, though subconsciously determined).
I feel like a line from the Bright Eyes song, lover I don’t have to love, completely exposes our need for purpose, even if it’s not our own: “I need some meaning I can memorize.”
So many go through life unmoved by a life-altering individual discovery, because it’s easier that way. I understand. When you begin the process of questioning, it feels like a slippery slope. Where will it stop? Will you end up an empty shell of the person you used to be? Will you end up a cynic, consumed with doubt? It can be daunting.
You would indeed be opening yourself up to the possibility that this whole time, you were wrong. Yet, if you sincerely believe in your opinions- then research, discussion, and examination will only strengthen your convictions. You can hold your head high, and say with certainty: this is MY story.
When have you EVER heard an inspiring story or a moving testimony, one that wrenched your gut from your body and left goose bumps in its wake, that began with “My parents told me . . .” No, it is the stories of personal mistakes, trial and error, zealous pursuit of self or God that led to knowledge, redemption, and true passion.
So the next time you hear a testimony lacking inspiration, an opinion lacking conviction, a person lacking self- you can just smile knowing they haven’t taken the plunge . . . yet; Unless, of course, that person is you.
