In spite of my being a practicing Catholic, I’m more inclined to believe in reincarnation. It’s not unlike me to have a difference of opinion from The Church, (which is not a fan of reincarnation). Examples of our other differences abound; I firmly believe in same-sex marriage and like and usually approve of any LBGTIQA I’ve met. I am neutral on divorce, (allowing me room for still-present but decreasing guilt about my own two divorces). I think abortion is an ugly choice but I think Christ would believe it’s sometimes the right one. And I have problems with the idea of being condemned to hell for failing to eat Fish on Friday or whatever the hell would get me there today, which should be nothing at all for the number of plenary indulgences I’ve earned for rosaries said, alter boy duties faithfully performed, bible passages read and the like. Even after subtracting hard-earned indulgences for having drunk way too much of the unblessed alter wine when Mickey P. and I got at it in 4th grade after St. Thomas Moore’s First Friday services, I should still be able to (almost literally) get away with murder!
Yes, I am also a Knight of Columbus, a trained church usher, have been married in The Church, went to Catholic school for decades, held every level of alter boy position known in my parish and in spite of my obviously being more often in a state of mortal sin than innocence, every Sunday I say my act of contrition before I walk up the aisle to receive the Body and Blood of Christ in Communion, timing being everything.
So, just to finish off, when I pass, God will have the duty to sort me out; I’ve written Him into my will and, Sorry, Big Guy, but it’ll be up to you at that point. And what I expect him to do is to kick the can down the road, God’s version of passing a 45-day funding bill. He won’t like it but He’ll hold His nose and do it, given the small possibility that I’ll make everything OK my next time through.
The previous being accurate as near as I can make it, I’m feeling increasingly good about reincarnation; it makes the most sense. Think about it. We are all sinners, yes? (And, absolutely yes, I AM including you, and you KNOW what you did!) But we have equally good parts, too. So we’re a mixture of good and evil, agreed? And might you also agree that our job is to gradually get rid of the evil parts so that we can return to Him (or Her, I’m totally good with Her) as pure, clean spirit some number of lives down the road. I mean, c’mon! It’s FAR too much fucking work for me to imagine I could possibly sort out all of my neurosis in this lifetime, even though I work on the task daily. And I didn’t ask for this hand to be dealt to me, any more than you asked for yours. So I will return, inevitably, for another kick at the cat, and this time I’m pretty sure that cat-kick will be as a dog.
Why a dog? Wishful thinking? Sort of. I love dogs, no doubt. Truth be told, there have been many times when the only person who would talk to me was a dog. And while I’m usually quite wonderful with dogs I also was unconsciously cruel to two dogs in my long life; shame prevents me from exposing the details but reliving one of their lives would make some sense and would be a more profound payback than simply donating money and time to PAWS, Best Friends, The SPCA and all the others.
Still, the reincarnation-as-a-dog thing; that’s really more about my aging. As I see it, the similarities between any two old people and any two dogs are notable. The older I get, the less I care about whether you are black, brown, gay, straight, rich or poor. I do care a little too much still about the minority of ridiculous right-wingers ruining our country (so I may have a little more work to do in the political arena in a future life), but this next round, I’m good with you being almost anything at all! And I can guarantee you that two dogs who live together are even more blind to any details about each other other than how their butts smell and if they will respect the other’s food dish. Beyond that, bring it, dogs will make it work!
So…what kind of dog? I’m weak on the mechanics of reincarnation and transmigration – it could be any kind of dog. My hope would be that I be re-born to a home where I’m wanted, but so many dogs aren’t, and apparently they make the best of it, that I’m even open to that situation. And type? I don’t want to be born as a Beagle – sorry, but too many bad memories of LBJ picking Him (and Her, too, I think), by their ears. But beyond that I’m open.
I do have a request, though. There are certain names I might like to have. I’ll mention a few. Puella. Connie. Rocky. Buster. Spyro. Desi. Lefty. Percy. Jake, Snooky. Cooter and Hanna. Yes, these are all names of dogs we’ve owned, but certainly not all the dogs. Names can be re-utilized too, you know, or in case you didn’t. So just pick one.
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I wish I shared your belief in reincarnation. It would be a very pleasant thought knowing that we keep getting multiple chances to get things right and that the life party never ends. That would be most reassuring but unfortunately I can’t get there. I know I’ve seen anecdotal evidence of previous lives but no scientific evidence. I do believe in science. Vaccines work. Not 100% of the time but enough of the time that I know my chances of not dying from a disease are greatly diminished. Same with masks. They are not foolproof but the places that have mask mandates clearly have a reduced rate of Covid infection. I believe in science.
There are some documented cases of people recalling past lives. I’m intrigued by the clarity of some of their memories and struggle to explain them in terms other than reincarnation but I need more than a few anecdotes.
My other trouble with reincarnation is I hit the jackpot in this life. My next turn might be more snake eyes than a 7. Being born into a middle class American family was a definite lottery winner. America has 5% of the worlds population and 25% of its wealth. The odds were much better that I would be born and raised in some destitute third world country. I beat those odds. Plus I got to have a childhood in the America of the 1950s and come of age in the 60s. It would be hard to find a better time or place to experience life. I am eternally grateful for the time and place of my birth.
For your sake AJ I hope any rebirth as a dog places you in a nice first world country surrounded by a loving family. I hate the idea of you being a poor kicked around mongrel scavenging in a dump for food scraps in a dusty dirty desert third world hell hole.
My last thought is what kind of a dog would you be. My first thought of you AJ would be an energetic Labrador Retriever. Athletic, outdoorsy and intelligent. Maybe a fine Australian Shepherd organizing the sheep and keeping them in line. I can also picture an untrainable English Bulldog. Set in your ways and content to just hang out on the rug by the fireplace. Regardless of your breed I would appreciate you giving me a sign that I was wrong about reincarnation. Please look me up and give me a sign. Pee on my leg or bite my shoe and smile at me. I’ll know it was you.
Boxer first choice. Medium-sized, maybe 45 pounds, either sex. Mild temperament – no interest in any more aggressive dogs. But pls understand all is optional and it’s gonna be somebody else’s option. I don’t get to vote. And, yes, I will bite your shoe, but not your best shoe(s). xo
When Thomas Huxley coined the word agnostic h he didn’t mean to connote an ambivalence about the existence of God and the Eternal, but rather that the nature of these matters were not demonstrated and were therefore unknown.
In other words, were not written down anywhere. Which I subscribe to. Perhaps He decided to spell his name backwards in the King James Bible to see if anyone would get the joke.
Love it. I didn’t know any of that about Huxley. So, as usual, I learned something from your response; thanks! My own belief in reincarnation et. al. may be just wishful thinking on my part but it just seems SO logical, appropriate and humane in the sense of creating a great path to travel….in other words, something, dare I say it, God-like….that I guess I just want Him (Her) to see it my way, or better said, to understand that I’m finally seeing it Hers (His). Romans 11:33-36 says it better:
“Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and decisions and how unfathomable and untraceable are His ways! For who has known the mind of The Lord, or who has been His counselor?”
Robin believes in reincarnation and in the possibility of communicating with her loved ones who have passed on. I on the other hand believe that death is the end of one’s existence on all levels. I was raised as a reform Jew which is sorta like being a Unitarian, but saying stuff in Hebrew. The big part of the theology was the concept of the Still Small Voice – one’s conscience. There was no concept of an afterlife. One’s reward was in the present: the feeling of doing good. Interestingly, I was our Rabbi’s favorite student. He really wanted me to be a Rabbi. I have no idea why in that I was a rebellious kid through and through.
And I have never had a dog.