It was then, when my speech had finished, that he rose from his chair in such a rush that it toppled over. The room went quiet as everyone halted their conversations to investigate with bent necks the commotion. He saw that people were watching, “don't worry my friends,” he said calmly and with a burp, “I have just had too many drinks tonight and got excited, for my old friend Peter has just told me he is willing to give himself to God, just like me.” He gestured for me to stand, “Him and I are now going up to the top of Willy’s to do the proper blessings below the cross, and to be alone. As you all know, God is not one to do miracles amongst company anymore. He has become shy for whatever reason…”
And everyone believed him. I saw a few of the older members of the crowd sitting at the bar nod slowly in agreement-- one gave me a thumbs up as Samuel and I made our way to the stairs near the back exit, and another, an older woman with receding hair, wiped from below her eye a single tear.
At the top of the stairs was a locked door that Samuel had a key to. On the door was a wooden sign that read: Beware of crows. The two of us has had a good laugh as we went outside onto the rooftop, scaring up a murder as we did.
“Scary creatures,” Samuel murmured.
“They used to bother me a lot,” I said, joining him at the edge, near the roof’s railing. We then stared out at the top of the town in a moment of silence. The wind picked up and sent the cross above us spinning. It squeaked like the gate of a graveyard.
“Someone should oil that thing,” I said, eyeing it over my shoulder.
He nodded his head but did not answer. On his face was a distant look, one of deep thought, with the reflection of the town’s few but bright street lamps in his eyes. Then, disregarding what I had just said, he began to speak in the same low tone as before. “I say I am no man of God, not out of disrespect, but because I do not believe that there exists somewhere a God like the one we read about in the bible.” He looked up to the sky, where crows swarmed and circled us, waiting to get their nests back. “All that I am sharing with you my friend, it is not to be gossiped about with the rest… do not even share it with your mother, no matter how invilid she may be.”
The air became heavy around us and I said, “of course Samuel. Your word is safe with me.”
He turned to me and touched my shoulder, “I appreciate you. I have always thought highly of you, even when I was a dirty kid, as you said. I always knew, no matter how much trouble I would get in, you would not judge me harshly, for you knew from where all my mischief came from. You knew it was not born of the heart, but a product of the world-- the unfortunate situation I was born into.”
“Yes,” I said, “I never thought of you as a bad person… just one with unfortunate circumstances.”
He smiled softly, touching the rail and looking out over the town once again. He sighed and laughed as he did, shaking his head. “Yes, that’s a good way to put it, for in my past there were a great number of unfortunate circumstances. And it was because of these that I was so bitter and angry at the world. There were times, Peter, lonely and cold times, when my mother was so caught up in her own head that I would go days without a meal. Only bread before bed. When I would ask my mother for something to eat before school, she would become angry with me, and tell me of all the burdens that I had brought with my birth. She told me that I had destroyed her body when being born, nearly killing her in the process, and that it was because of this that my father left our family, seeing no use in a wife who he could not copulate with.”
“Your anger, it is something I feel too,” I said, “I don’t see how a seed can grow properly without enough light and nutrients.”
“Yes. I was thrown in with the brambles, as it was said…”
I interjected, “But look at what a beautiful flower you have become despite it all.”
“You would make a good Christain,” he said, “but I feel you are similar in beliefs to me, which is why you find my holiness so queer.”
I nodded, “Indeed. I question whether there is truly a spirit like the one in the bible, and that’s why I stay away from the church and avoid prayer. It was not till today that the thought of God had come to my mind, and it was because I was missing my brothers, the time we would spend under the heavens outside my home. Before that, I had not thought of Them in the slightest.”
“I went some time before thinking of God.” he said, “like you, when God was introduced to me, I was a child, and I felt the pastors were doing nothing more than trying to fool me into falling in line with what they saw as good. I never felt that I was a good person, so why would I listen? My role in life was to be a heavy weight around society’s neck. I was a burden. So I rejected the word of God as a child, and avoided thinking of it as a young adult because it reminded me of all that I was running away from.”
He sighed, “Reminiscing, as you might imagine, is quite painful for me. The past has little moments that I wish would come back.”
“Hey,” I said, “we can be thankful that those times are gone now.”
“You are wise to say that. But I bring up my past only to explain why my journey to become a holy man was so difficult, and why my relationship with the word is different from others in my position. There are few holy men who do not believe in God, and even fewer who are willing to speak of their disbelief .”
“I can imagine; you work in an industry of faith.”
He nodded slowly, with pressed lips, “Unfortunately many see it that way.”
“How do you see it? Is Christianity not based in faith?”
“No, you’re correct to see it that way. I just wish more were like me, and could see past faith… at least see past having faith in a God instead of themselves.” A crow landed on the railing, unafraid of us. It cocked its head to eye us with the sinister side of its face. It cawed a few times and bounced on the railing till it was close enough for Samuel to reach out and pet the bird. To my surprise, he did so, petting the bird’s head gently, and beckoning it with his arm to climb up onto his shoulder. The crow obliged and sat on his shoulder for the remainder of our conversation.
“I say,” Samuel continued,“I am no man of God because I do not believe in there being a single being that we may call God. You may wonder then what I do believe in, and why people feel the need to label me a Holyman.”
“That is precisely my question,” I said, “It seems contradictory to be both a holy man, and an atheist.”
“I never asked for that title. It was the other holymen who gave it to me after I had spent some time under them at the church. Internally, I’ve always thought of myself as nothing more than a student dedicated to truth. But now I'm going off onto another subject, one that I will come back to… I say I don’t believe in a God like they do, like how the other holymen do, and that is for good reason. I see that God is no single entity, but the personification of hope. Tell me Peter, can we the people do anything without hope?”
Samuel’s question brought forth memories of my sick mother. I said in response, “I think we wither away without hope. As far as I can tell, we are nothing more than a corpse without the driving force.”
“And,” he continued, nodding his head in agreement, “tell me, what is hope, other than faith in yourself or your situation?”
“I suppose the words are interchangeable,” I said.
“Yes, they can be, especially with the folks in our town who associate God with the bringer of good, but I divide them on purpose because I see they have different meanings. I see, as a person without faith in a God, but hope in humanity, that the former refers to a trust in God’s invisible hands, Their guiding force. While the latter has nothing to do with God. Hope is faith in the human heart, in the general good of the world, without the fear of hell fire.”
I wiped my lips in compilation, “What is a good act, if it is one that is forced by fear? Is that what you are getting at?”
“Yes, in part. When one does a good act for their society, but it is because their soul will burn for eternity if they live a life without good, and not because they love their fellow men and women, the act, to me, feels dirty. But it is fair to say that both acts are equal in the eyes of the helped, for it is true, a beggar does not care where their coin comes from, just that it allows them to fill their belly, or satisfy their vice. And further, as a man who has participated for quite some time now with the church, it seems that people need fear as a motivator to do good for others, as sad as that may be. But, I do not say that as a critique of the heart of man, but as an observation of the world they have grown up in. I think we are all good; I think we are all born to serve one another, but that due to how we are raised, that purpose is obfuscated and transformed into a servitude toward God and not humanity.’
“The selfishness of the people around us, how they would rather work for their own interests, seeing that their souls are safe in the afterlife by helping those around them, I believe they do this not because of some intrinsic selfishness, but as them acting in accordance with the rules of our religious culture. As children, we are taught to do good because we are one day going to be judged by our saviour, not because it is good for society as a whole. We are taught to fear the wrath of God that lives above us in the heavens, and not to fear ourselves, what we may become if we are given to the unsociable desires that arise within us all. And it is for that reason that I renounce God, and instead believe in hope. I chose to fear what I once was, a dirty, selfish creature, and use that as my motivator to do good.”
He then turned his back to the town and leaned on the railing with his arms crossed. “To the people in our town, it seems they cannot distinguish a man devoted to their wellbeing, and a man devoted to God, and that is why they label me a holy man. To be fair though, I do use God’s name interchangeably with hope, so as to not ignite a debate whenever someone comes to me for counsel. There is no need to fight everyone on this matter when the goal at the end of the day is just the same: I wish to help them, and they wish to be helped.”
The crow took flight off his shoulder and landed on the cross. The subtle shift of weight its take off caused made the railing to snap, and put Samuel off his balance. And just like that, without the safety rail to save him, he fell off the roof and onto the ground below.
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