While sipping coffee in the faculty lounge, a colleague chided me for dwelling too much on subjects of a serious nature. A self-proclaimed agnostic, he said, “Christians, especially you Protestants, take life too seriously. Life is for enjoyment, which your serious nature disallows.”
“Since you brought up religion — because I’m a Christian, I don’t believe a middle ground exists between believers and non-believers.”
“So, I am an atheist, not an agnostic?”
Life a precious gift, given by the Creator, and I must be serious about using that gift to the furtherance of His will
Refraining from praising his perspicacity, I said, “In my opinion, agnostics have no more idea what they are than political moderates. Those mendacious masters of misdirection use that label to afford themselves flexibility to side with whatever political party has the majority voice on a given issue, and they admit as much by making ridiculous comments like, “I have friends on both sides of that issue, and I side with my friends.”
“There you go again with more dire, dreary, dull drivel,” he chuckled. “Answer me: Am I an agnostic or an atheist?”
“Whatever you are, ponder Pascal’s Wager: ‘Belief is a wise wager. Granted that faith cannot be proved, what harm will come if a man gambles on its truth and it proves false? If he gains, he gains all; if he loses, he loses nothing. Wager, then, without hesitation, that God exists.’”
“Ugh,” he scowled. “No more of this sad, serious stuff for me — nor more coffee. I’ll consume libations of a more liberating nature. Care to join me?” I waved goodbye.
I lay awake that night, evaluating the notion that taking life seriously is wrong. I consider it right. Life a precious gift, given by the Creator, and I must be serious about using that gift to the furtherance of His will. Jaybird, the man who taught me the value of hard work when I was growing up on Dad’s Mississippi Delta farm, would agree. As the beloved old black man often said to me, “Son, do what you fear to do — that will be the death of fear.”
“Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.”
Having been raised in an America untainted by socialism, I adhere to the inalienable rights our forefathers fought to guarantee, among them freedom of speech. Jaybird would remind me that speaking one’s mind is often daunting, especially when what one says rocks society’s boat, but if a person believes, as he did, that courage is the chief virtue and cowardice the worst of sins, he must affirm his beliefs when confronted by naysayers.
Folks who face life without seriousness may shrug and say, “Life is hard — then you die; enjoy it while you can.” I cannot accept that cowardly, epicurean mindset.
General Douglas McArthur wouldn’t either. He said, “Only those are fit to live who are not afraid to die.” As would John Wayne, who said, “Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.”
Thanks, Jaybird, my wise mentor, for reminding me to be unafraid to stand up for what I believe is right. Doing so brings about what you promised: the death of fear.
Jimmy Reed is an Oxford, Mississippi resident, Ole Miss and Delta State University alumnus, Vietnam Era Army Veteran, former Mississippi Delta cotton farmer and ginner, author, and retired college teacher.
This story is a selection from Jimmy Reed’s latest book, entitled The Jaybird Tales.
Copies, including personalized autographs, can be reserved by notifying the author via email (.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)).
