Of the places I've gone that have importance to me, New York City stands out. In 2011, I was there for the second time on a spiritual excursion with a group of zealots I called friends. At the start of the journey, I had no premonition this trip could have changed my life. My parents look back on the pilgrimage as what strengthened their faith, on the contrary, I remember it as what destroyed mine.
To others in my caravan it was the holy grail. The center of true worship was separated into three locations, one in the heart of Brooklyn. Their relationship with New York was complicated, as the history of the religion coincided largely with the city’s. However, there was always a disdain. I love New York City for its transparency and diversity, yet I recall overhearing discussions about why the staff at the religious headquarters despised the rising metropolis.
“They don't even care anymore. The homosexuals hold hands as they're walking down the street! How vile must they be, sharing their sin with others.” I'd hear a fellow member aver in disgust. After all, there's nothing more vile that a blithe deviant.
Another would respond, “Well, I know they're sick and deranged. They are just as violent! They must have the demons on their side.” I never fought them, …show more content…
It seemed as one to me, the hundreds of stories, all merged together to form a beautiful noise. My family was there for the spiritual benefit, still I was to learn something else. A million people here seemed to scream out just what they stood for: life, its intricacies, and my religion's greatest sin. I couldn't go on believing the same, that their demented message of castigation and destruction was plausible. A million people more screamed out their innocence. In my mind, it was required that they be mistaken, I couldn't justify my beliefs and ideals with the destruction of people whose only fault was their
To others in my caravan it was the holy grail. The center of true worship was separated into three locations, one in the heart of Brooklyn. Their relationship with New York was complicated, as the history of the religion coincided largely with the city’s. However, there was always a disdain. I love New York City for its transparency and diversity, yet I recall overhearing discussions about why the staff at the religious headquarters despised the rising metropolis.
“They don't even care anymore. The homosexuals hold hands as they're walking down the street! How vile must they be, sharing their sin with others.” I'd hear a fellow member aver in disgust. After all, there's nothing more vile that a blithe deviant.
Another would respond, “Well, I know they're sick and deranged. They are just as violent! They must have the demons on their side.” I never fought them, …show more content…
It seemed as one to me, the hundreds of stories, all merged together to form a beautiful noise. My family was there for the spiritual benefit, still I was to learn something else. A million people here seemed to scream out just what they stood for: life, its intricacies, and my religion's greatest sin. I couldn't go on believing the same, that their demented message of castigation and destruction was plausible. A million people more screamed out their innocence. In my mind, it was required that they be mistaken, I couldn't justify my beliefs and ideals with the destruction of people whose only fault was their