The Righteous Eyes
24 Jan 2007I was sitting on the SkyTrain today just minding my own business. I was blocking out the world and listening to some Snow Patrol. I was taking in the breathtaking view of the mountains in the first day of sun in I don’t know how long.
As I was sitting there minding my own business an old man sat down infront of me. He had a handful of propaganda. Religous paraphanelia. Whatever you like to call it. This isn’t exactly out of the ordinary. People outside my SkyTrain stop are standing there pushing boxes of bibles at people at least once a month.
This man looked down his nose at me as he sat down. His eyes had that righteous fire that you seen in people who greatly believe in their faith with a bit of fanaticism. He turned and offered his literature to an old couple sitting across the aisle. They declined.
He turned back to me with those same eyes. I am not normally one to push my beliefs on any one. I respect and accept everyone’s beliefs, until they start to think that theirs are better than other people’s. Even then, I’m good right up to that point when they start to push their faith on me or other people. He started to hand me one of his pamphlets.
He locked his eyes on mine and I stared right back. Bit by bit his gaze lost it’s strength. There are points that I don’t yield on. There are points where I don’t back down. His initial look at me told me that he thought he was better than me. That he had his God behind him. That somehow I was weaker without his God behind me. There was that subtle glint in his eyes telling me that I was wrong.
I didn’t give an inch. I have my faith. I have my beliefs. They probably aren’t the same as yours, and surely they weren’t the same as his. I believe in people. The inherent good and decency of humanity. In family and friendship. Whether it was the strength of my own faith in my own beliefs, the strength of my disbelief in his faith, or him seeing something else deeper and hidden, I may never know (I have been called The Red Devil or Devil by more than one crazy homeless person in more than one city (I always blame it on my Calgary Flames jersey) ).
One stop later, unable to look at me, he got up and moved further down the train car.