Perfect Imperfection

It leaves little to human consciousness, this matter of religion. It is black and white, theoretically spawned from Beings far greater than our own, unable to be questioned or challenged, far fetched to those who simply cannot believe.

In this much God Himself has given man something far greater than the Word, or far less depending on your point of view. Man is inquisitive, both reviled and revered in a thirst for knowledge about where he has been prior to life and where he will go when life ceases to be. It is simply a cause for celebration, or a cause for contempt, again depending on your point of view.

To follow certain historical thoughts on the matter of kinship to God, it is important to do so with an open mind and heart; for bias in either direction will certainly leave the philosophical point askew. In this society leaves little room, as one must have some preference upon birth; for traditions must be upheld, laws adhered to, faith emboldened on the very fabric of our existence. This faith, however, has very little fabric of it’s own, and can easily be left in tatters when approached with an open mind and heart. So this is where we begin.

It is true, the youngest among us remain perfect, as newborns carry none of the fantastical human traits that make us less so. They are neither Christian nor Jew, Gentile nor pagan, Hindu nor Buddhist. They simply are human, perfect in their innocence, perfect in their form, and perfect in their faith; for they have no faith, yet they have nothing but faith.

Newborns have perfect faith in as much as they have none except in what is to be expected. They expect nourishment from their mothers, solace from their fathers, and structure from their families. They have faith it will come, and look toward each other with a perfect unbiased humanity as innocent as it is profound.

Then we allow adults to ruin the image of perfection. Installed tradition, contempt, and new kinds of faith are taught from the beginning of our lives. We become, by the very nature of our societal structure, imperfect.


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