two words that i have not been able to learn how to correctly distinguish in all of my years as a writer are vein and vain. one is the term for the innumerable vessels that fill and make up our bodies, transporting blood and minerals and oxygen and nutrients from organ to organ, literally pumping us with life force. the other could be a direct opposite – a disregard for, a lacking in, an absence of what is vital. “not to be vain,” one might say, before embarking on a comment that distracts from the issue at hand in order to put the focus on oneself. “do not use the lord’s name in vain,” says the third commandment, arguably the most-ignored one.
god. if one were to trace the etymology of the word, it could be beautifully described as a term that has now worked its way not only into describing an almighty deity, but as an exclamation for joy, grief, rage, and all the minor feelings between. “this isn’t me using it in vain,” i told myself, when i first began incorporating it into my non-religious lexicon. when i say something like “god damn it,” it has nothing to do with the supreme being, or the most ultimate existential act that can occur to a soul…it’s just a very similar-sounding colloquialism for when i can’t find my keys! god has become a casualty by way of the casual. on any given day, i can hear and say those three words pronounced without my mind ever going to a heaven, a creator, a focal point of worship. if the purpose of the third commandment was to prevent humankind from stripping the word god of its shaking power, it’s safe to say that it was a god-awful failure.
satan, on the other hand…there’s a word that sends chills up my spine when i even utter it. i blame this not only on spending my formative years in churches, fellowships, youth camps, and my dad’s subscription to christianity today, but also on our culture. i grew up with an understanding that the devil is so predatory, so cunning, that even speaking of him could be an open invitation to be possessed, or at least influenced. for all the elements of the church that i’ve shaken off through adulthood, this notion of satan as a name to avoid speaking – like candyman, beetlejuice, bloody mary – i haven’t been able to unlearn.
i heard somewhere that for all the intellectuals who have reasoned their way out of believing in god, they somehow remain steadfast in their belief in evil. today i’m thinking about the third commandment, and about words, and about what we take in vein, and what we allow to fill up inside of us and circulate in our systems. whose name and image do i tremble before? is this a fear that would be injected in me by an all-knowing, all-loving deity? ultimately, how important are the deeds and words we speak on the fly, when we don’t mean it, which is to say how important is most of what we do and say?
i didn’t mean for this to be a rant on religion, just something i’m thinking about, as i approach a year of sitting here, inside, reflecting on everything i’ve taken for granted, and feeling everything that courses within me like it was closer than ever before.