It is now clear that the Catholic Church and its leader the Pope will stand firm on the issue of climate, declaring human forcing of the radiative balance a clear and present danger to humanity–on many levels. Normally, Climatebull provides satire, humor, or pointed commentary about the callous, sometimes nefarious nature of certain large institutions, as well as their stance on the climate. In some of my writings, the subject can be somber. In this essay, there is none of the above. We have a story from my younger days.
I grew up in the suburbs of New York City. Typical of the New York metropolitan area–we had our tribes. There were The Italians, The Greeks, The Jews, The Puerto Ricans, The Irish, The Polish, The Catholics, The Protestants, and so forth. Oddly, among all these groups there was a form of respect and admiration–so long as you could defend yourself by words, actions, or class. One consequence of this mix of tribes was the ongoing explanation of the other tribes, some of it funny, some of it painful, some of it bigoted, most of it enlivening.
All of my friends had various ethic components to their heritage making enlightenment that much easier. A few families even had mixed marriages. In those days, in New York, that meant Jews and Catholics, Catholics and Protestants, Protestants and Jews. The color barrier was collapsing, but by and large, there were few mixed marriages across color. Regardless, I grew up enamored with the American melting pot.
Fights were common, disagreements and arguments far more common. Friendships were the most common of all. My friends and I discussed everything. My best friend’s name was Mike. Our perspectives were poles apart, being from different tribes.
After a year of gentle honesty the kind good friends enjoy, Mike revealed his alarm. Since I was Jewish, and because I had not been baptized, “I was going to Hell.” An event he felt was, “…Illogical, the waste of a good soul…” Being Spockian, by nature, he felt altruism for the soul was “…Only logical.” As in Star Trek–we were fervent believers in the wisdom of Star Trek–despite its demise from the TV airwaves a few years earlier.
To further his goal of redeeming my soul, Mike felt I needed to learn more about his religion, Catholicism, and so he took it upon himself to train me up during our long walks through the campus of Lamont Doherty Observatory. His dog Azaay accompanied us, though I never heard Mike discussing baptism with Azaay. Actions spoke louder than words and so I learned to sharpen my debating skills. Mostly I was interested in the science experiments displayed all around campus far more than religion, but that didn’t matter to my friend.
During those years before college, our high school years, I was treated to the greatest hits of theology on a weekly basis. It did no good–making almost no impact on me–or so I thought. Baptized or not Azaay and I were okay. I was absolutely certain Mike’s unbaptized animal would never find himself in the fires of Hades.
A few years later, bored with our freshman year in college, Mike and I headed off to Europe to explore the old world. During that trip, we spent almost two months in Italy. Refueled by Renaissance beauty, the devotions of Florence and Rome, religion seized my friend once again. Discussions of faith, God, the rigors of Hell, and my dreary options resurfaced–thank you, Dante. I was less responsive than the last time–females held my devotions. Even the wonders of the Earth Sciences lay mired in the hormonal quagmire of my teen years.
The end of our first week in Rome, I woke to silence on the topic of soul and logic. A few days passed–no debates on theology. A trip to the Vatican released a discussion on the sculptures of Michelangelo, but zilch on the spirit. Had he given up? A stupid notion–so I had to ask: “What happened to the worth of soul?”
“You’re saved. I baptized you.”
“Can you guys do that?”
“If a person is dying, we can. I figured since we are all dying at every moment, why not?”
“Why don’t I remember the event?”
“You were asleep. Don’t sweat it. I threw the right kind of water on you after we got to Rome. You’re all set.” There wasn’t the slightest sense of overstep, or wrong. After all, we were best friends. As Mike saw it, I was finally rescued from my pig-headedness, and that was that. The debate had been settled by action and I lost; however, to be honest, I felt a bit relieved.
We returned to the US, back to college, then living on different coasts raised families, while generally drifting into separate lives. Upon reading the Pope’s decision to stand firm on the issue of climate, I was reminded of my friend and his attempts to save my immortal essence. I’m not sure why. I do know I never thanked Mike for his efforts to save my soul. My childhood pal died years ago from cancer…A good man. Thank you.
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