Going to the Dellingers' felt like stepping out of the real world.
Their house is of unimposing size, built of stone and covered in places with vines. It's set about forty feet back from a quiet road which winds over a small mountain. Their situation on the mountain is such that the trees don't block much of the view from the porch. So when you sit on this porch, and happen to glance out over the road - you're staring off at the Appalachins.
Stepping inside, you will notice a number of things. This is not surprising. The first really surprising thing, which you probably won't notice first - but not long after, either - is the books, stacked on shelves, lying on tables, sitting upon chairs. If you go upstairs, you will have the impression that some new and revolutionary form of insulation has been invented, one that actually sits within the walls and consists almost entirely of paper and ink. This was where I slept.
Roughly two-thirds of the windows are open all the time, and it doesn't matter because the air is even now quite cool. I received two mosquito bites while I was sitting outside for a period of about four hours. At home, even I could not go that long without receiving a dozen or so bites unless there were to be some hapless female in the vicinity, too tender-skinned for her own good (in this matter).
The idea of going to see Mr. Dellinger was originally hatched, at least in part, when Trevor and I wondered what he'd think of our current respective spiritual conditions. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that Mr. Dellinger was responsible, by teaching us to know what we believe and why, for the kind of thoughts that led to a night - and a following year - of honesty with myself.
When we first told him, the first thing he said was, "Oh," followed by, "Well, that's good." Mr. Dellinger being a Christian, this was somewhat of a surprising statement. When asked what he meant, he responded, "It's good that you know why you don't believe." I wouldn't be too surprised to learn that that remark meant more than is apparent to me.
Lengthy discussions followed. The greatest amount of time was taken up arguing specific cases of inconsistency. That really wasn't so much my cup of tea, even though I did interject a comment here and there. I'm not nearly so much interested in disproving Christianity as in demonstrating a lack of evidence pertaining specifically to Christianity.
Overall, he didn't seem to surprised about it. In fact, the discussion wasn't too different from the sort we'd have in Bible and Teen Culture, way back in 8th grade, when we still professed to be Christians. I guess this is the sort of thing he expected from budding skeptics.
In any case, this was the best way I can think of to bid farewell to summer.
posted on Saturday, August 09, 2003
|
|
