“Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this. (Esther 4:14).”
As was usually come to pass at the end of the day, Darth Harley walked down the Angus Path, particularly pleasant and orange on a autumn eve such as this, and reflected on the day at school. His teacher had taught on “6 +1 Traits of good writing,” and specifically writing with Word Choice that reflected 5 senses and emotion words.
“Paint a picture in your readers’ minds,” she had said.
Angus Path, or more precisely Angus Trail, was a pleasant way that accompanied sparkling Golden Brook in Harley’s hometown. The Angus the trail had in mind was Angus Og MacDonald, an ancient Scottish leader who may have fought along the Templar Knights soldiers hundreds of years ago.
“What if it’s all true?” Harley’s imaginary friend “Daemon” asked as the two crunched auburn leaves along the dusty path.
“You mean like Jesus really was God’s son and accepting him gives you eternal life in blessedness?”
“Sure,” Daemon said, “or if any religion is actually right?”
Harley took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air and, being contrary as always, offered this:
“Do you know what the first thing the Abrahamic religions teach? It’s that when God created humans he made the caretakers of the world. And do you know what most people take away from these religions? They think they’re about the individual person and how they can be rewarded in this life and/or the next life. The problem is that if it is all about me, it’s hard to see how it’s all about taking care of the earth and its creatures. We may be authoring our own extinction with things like climate change by approaching life in such a way that personal self-realization and achievement is put first, and the world comes second, if at all.”
Daemon thought for a moment and said:
“You really see this in how we treat other creatures. There’s no real difference between cats, dogs, pigs, and chickens, and yet most people have no problem eating the latter, even though they love and cherish the former.”
The young Sith and his imaginary friend rambled along into the evening, a path that went down and down, round and round, as children’s author James Thurber described in The White Deer. Daemon wondered if perhaps the question isn’t whether religion was true or not, but rather even if it was true it was dangerous, and so perhaps was better left behind on the path of life.