Sometimes loneliness is a good thing
I've been told I'm in danger of eternal separation from God for a fourth time by a fourth denomination - Mennonite, Greek Orthodox, Southern Baptist and now the Presbyterian Church of America. Yes. I dialogue across a spectrum of Christianity, though the benefits seem to be nothing but a tally of damnations and an accidental membership in a Unitarian Universalist church.
There's a comfort in the obscure. In writing in the eddies and the inlets, the abandoned corners and the empty holes. Where they don't notice you. Where they don't demand justifications by means you think are silly. Where they don't ask trick questions about why Jesus never prayed to the saints except when he did on the Mount of Transfiguration which doesn't count because he's Jesus. Where they don't raise an eyebrow because you're reading Heidegger -wasn't he a Nazi? - and where I don't have to sneak Derrida's relevant point in sideways unnamed and by cover of C.S. Lewis. Where I don't stand trial for heresy by people I can't respect and standards I can't accept. Where I don't remember Sodom or Gomorrah and I won't vote for Bush. Where I am willing to consider that God is neuter and do want to consider questions of Being and being and Nothing.
Let me back, I say, back into my hole where I can breathe smoke and clean my green scales. Let me back where people write me off without trial, damn me without a hearing. Let me back into my ivory cave where I can think about things no one knows about or cares, about pedantic and esoteric and eccentric things with technical jargon to wall it all away.
Let the living preach to the living, debate with the living and marry them too. Sometimes loneliness is a good thing, said Grendel. Rebuild your great and squalid mead hall, but leave me alone.