Yes, truly, with all my heart
October 19, 2007
Later, I cried because I couldn’t overcome my lust.
In my church, there is a voluntary procedure called confession of faith that consists of going in front of the church and affirming that you are really giving yourself body, mind, and soul to God, and that you are doing so in front of the whole community. It is a somewhat daunting affair that many kids don’t undertake, and is usually done, under pressure from parents, at the end of high school. It begins by going to a special class, learning about the Heidelberg catechism and church history, then going in front of the Board of Elders and answering questions about your faith, proving that you’re ready. Then, there is a special time set aside in the church service where you are kneeling in front of the congregation and you answer a set of predefined questions with “Yes , truly, with all my heart.”
I was very serious about religion from a young age for reasons I’ll try to explore later. So I did confession of faith early, at the age of thirteen. A few memories of that event really stuck with me.
My decision to do it seemed momentous to me, I prayed a lot about it, asking for guidance. I thought that I could increase my faith by doing this, that by making this decision, I could cast doubt out of my mind. I asked God for a sign, and, lo and behold! I got multiple “signs” (random occurrences I interpreted as signs because I was looking for them). When I was in front of the board of elders, I mentioned these signs. In retrospect, they should never have let me go on with such flimsy justifications. They should have known that my wishful thinking was not a substitute for true faith. On the other hand, they do look very similar.
An eighteen year old girl and I were doing confession of faith that day. As this lovely girl wearing a backless dressed kneeled (toward the front of church), I lusted after her. Obviously I felt so guilty about it, I still remember. I thought my faith should be strong, that I should rise above baser desires. At the end of the service, members of the community greet the new full members of the church. I remember an old man saying to me, “Why aren’t you smiling, you should be happy.” I wasn’t happy, I was somber as hell, looking deep into myself for a change that I thought should happen, a change that let me overcome doubt. Later that night I was playing pool in our basement, watching TV to avoid thinking about my disappointment, Tales from the Crypt was the show, in fact. One of my parents came down to talk to me. I felt guilty that I was just hanging out as usual on such an important day. They asked what I was watching and I lied and said I didn’t know. Later, I fantasized about that girl in the backless dress. And I cried because I couldn’t overcome my lust, because my faith was too weak, because confession of faith was a lie to cover up my lack of faith.
