Our theme for October is “Why I Believe.”
I believe because I was born into it.
I believe because the best people I know believe. Letting their little lights shine.
I believe because the best people I know believe. Confirmation bias.
I believe because I want things to be right.
I believe because negative reinforcement works.
I believe because positive reinforcement works.
I believe because abstinence-only. The war on drugs. Radiocarbon dating and the Creation Museum.
I believe because the best people I know believe. Hero worship.
I believe because I spent every sober hour reading and writing and conjugating and memorizing. A liberal arts devotee, so desperate to make culture, redeem the world, and learn how to learn. If I understood enough, things could be right. I want things to be right. But true faith means feeling and passion, and trust, and obedience, so analysis had no place in the Holy of Holies until it did.
I believe because of feelings, even my own feelings, and that can change rapidly from day to day.
I believe because when I handed back my ticket, the world didn’t fall apart.
I believe because I stopped worrying about what happens when I die. I don’t like carrots and I don’t like sticks. I don’t want a reward system. I waste enough of my life showing up to work for a paycheck.
I believe because Dean Moriarty rushed after midget auto races until he left his friend to die in Mexico and staggered, strung-out, down a sidewalk. Holy, holy, holy, and all the howling in the world didn’t make it better.
I believe because Gary Schmidt owns a farm and dogs and loves his children, and because he invited our class to his house and worried because I didn’t have a jacket.
I believe because the best people I know believe. A Peeping Tom copycat.
I believe in spite of the Bible.
I believe because of the Bible.
I believe because I don’t believe in soundbites, How to Win Friends and Influence People, diets, morals of the story, or myself.
I believe because if it feels like I should, I don’t.
I believe because my parents raised me.
I believe because the best people I know believe.
NPR called Josh deLacy (’13) “a modern-day Jack Kerouac” after he hitchhiked 7,000 miles across the United States, and a few dozen surprised drivers told him he didn’t smell bad. Since that experience, he found homes in the Pacific Northwest, the Episcopal Church, and the post calvin. Josh deLacy’s writing has appeared or is forthcoming in places such as The Emerson Review, Front Porch Review, and Perspectives. His website: joshdelacy.com