Convent

Catholics have devised an ingenious method for recruiting free labor in exchange for room and board by taking advantage of the limited opportunities and insecurities of women who have had a relationship go bad or affair exposed and institutionalizing them inside a convent. Many women have been forced into convents by relatives as a way of punishment and to be “educated.” Others simply find themselves with nowhere else to go. Christians predictably stress the notion of penance: the idea that one should make good as compensation for behaving foolishly. The main duty of a Christian is to indoctrinate others. In business, this is called a pyramid scheme. In religion, it’s called a cult.

Christianity preys heavily on ignorance, insecurity, guilt and fear. It is very adept at exploiting the misfortunate by opportunistically enlisting the confused, stressed and vulnerable with the promise of guidance, success and love. Instead of considering or respecting the desires of individuals, Christianity claims to know what is best for everybody. By following God instead of your own impulses, you will find peace. Religion can be considered little more than a means of shirking personal responsibility.

They’ve established a notion that there are things nobody should ever do and calls them “sins.” Conveniently for anybody wanting to point out the flaws in others, most of these have to do with seeking enjoyment or indulging instinctual impulses, most notably sex. It stresses that flaws should and will be punished, while strict discipline and obedience will lead to an honorable life after death. This militaristic way of thinking is only useful for someone raising and training an army. Think about that!

After experiencing a personal relationship gone wrong, having a place you can stay for free with food provided and a roof over your head in relative peace and quiet while being able to distract yourself by spending your time serving your fellow man sounds idyllic. And probably no two things are more successful at making you feel better about yourself than being accepted as part of a group and helping others.

Another nice thing about a convent is that you don’t have to worry about personal one-on-one affection and intimacy. Real love makes you vulnerable and leads to disappointment. When grand ambitions leave you feeling helpless with your faith in humankind shattered, it is tempting to resign to a simple life where little opportunity is given for anything to go wrong. With religion, you can simply imagine yourself being loved while keeping a professional distance from it. It’s nice to feel safe from disillusionment. Eschewing responsibility in favor of reliance on an omnipotent, omni-present being who controls the fate of all and loves you personally can seem very safe and comforting, even if that being is suspiciously invisible and non-communicative.

The offering of something to believe is especially seductive and vivid after one is confronted with betrayal or the folly of one’s own assumptions. While nihilism is an ironic concept, I consider it a noble pursuit. It’s pathetic to assume one must believe in something, so if one belief system falls flat, it is a necessity to pick another one. The notion that having made mistakes somehow proves there’s a god is laughable. To quote The Big Lebowski: “Just because we’re bereaved, that doesn’t make us saps.”

Disappointment is a potent libido destroyer. The celibate nature of a convent can actually seem a refreshing change immediately after exiting a disastrous relationship. After all, the desire for sex was a major incentive for starting the relationship to begin with. Perhaps that means sex is bad after all, right? Following that logic, it stands to reason anything enjoyable has the potential to lead to disappointment, whereas asceticism will never let you down- it simply keeps you there while providing the illusion that desires are tamable and fate is under control. Life in a convent encourages you to let go of possessions and carnality, which is exactly the situation you’re likely to find yourself confronted in after a relationship falls apart anyway, unless you find/already have another relationship to pursue. Living alone, especially if you’ve never done it before, is pretty daunting. You don’t have to live alone in a convent!

I don’t buy into the concept of karma. Christians prefer to call it retribution. There are simply far too many assholes living comfortable lives to buy into any sort of cosmic justice. While it’s nice to suppose that someone who has wronged us has it coming back to them, wishful thinking should never be mistaken for actuality. Future behaviors or circumstances do not somehow cancel out or balance past blunders. Believing this is a gross misunderstanding of time.

I don’t understand how one would get out of a convent. I can’t think of a career where it is helpful to put “nun” on your resume. A convent isn’t designed to help women get back on their feet, but a cleverly devised trap in which fears are reinforced, suffering is celebrated, disillusionment with the world is encouraged and a promised reward not arriving until after death. Indeed, a convent seems the perfect place to be for someone who would rather be dead.

Epilogue
There are as many degrees of foolishness as there are humans. A distinction must be made between mistakes and transgressions. The guiding principle I use for judging human behavior is that all humans should be treated with respect, and unfortunately this concept is not found anywhere in Christianity. I define a mistake as a wrong or poor decision made in earnest, and contrast a transgression as a deliberate attempt at taking advantage of others. I’m not suggesting that it is possible to discern whether every act is a mistake or transgression, but I am stating there’s a difference between the two.

Having or exploring a relationship with another human can rarely be considered a mistake. Continuing a relationship with someone who treats humans poorly almost certainly is. But in the grand scheme of things, trusting an untrustworthy person or failing to communicate successfully are minor transgressions.
Life not working according to plan does not make the person living it a failure. Mistakes can be discouraging, and contrary to popular rhetoric, there’s sometimes nothing to be learned from them except how to accept responsibility, pick up pieces, leave pieces and move on.

Being a manipulative liar, on the other hand, is a transgression, not a mistake. Once you’ve proven yourself untrustworthy, it is a very long, nearly impossible path to regain any sort of integrity. One method for expediting the process of regaining trust is to remove yourself to a place where nobody knows your past. Of course, if this is done to create new opportunities for exploitation, this act is in itself a transgression. But if a charlatan joins a convent in order to remove themselves from society, realizing they are a detriment to it, I can respect that.