Of Sunday Certitudes and Doubts . . .

Sunday afternoon here . . . I guess Sunday is as a good a day as any to think about religion a bit. If one must. Well, it's not entirely my fault, there's been some damn good writing going on over at Jimmy Bastard's place in the past day or two which couldn't help but get me started, given how he mentions religion in one way or another.
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Now listen, I don't mean to offend anyone, I know religion is a touchy subject to some, and others quickly swing into tempestuous vitriolic humours should anybody dare to question, or worse cast doubt upon certain sacred certitudes of which they are sure of. Are blogs like dinner tables then, where religion and politics should never be mentioned ?
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Well, whatever. While travelling on Reunion Island in February, I was somewhat fascinated by how visible certain symbols of people's religious beliefs were in many places. And couldn't help but photograph some such manifestations of spiritual beliefs.
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The Catholic church is quite alive and active both in France and on Reunion Island, with all its superstition and mythic certainty of its inalienable right to proclaim itself the most righteous of oracles for the voice of divine power on Earth. But the Catholic church has been getting alot of bad press of late. It would seem, if one can believe the allegations, that rather alot of Catholic priests in various places around the world have been helping themselves over the years to sexual favors from the young and innocent among the flocks they were supposedly guiding to higher levels of spiritual enlightenment. Sad, tragic even, but hardly surprising from an organisation that expects healthy male human beings to practice celibacy throughout their adult lives. The current Pope came out publicly stating (yet again) that the vows of celibacy and the fact that Catholic priests are forbidden to marry are not the reason for all the cases of sexual abuse practiced by some priests upon young members of their congregations. I would find that rather laughable, were the whole story not so reprehensible. Why is it then that we are not seeing an equal number of similar stories about other Christian religion's priests who are allowed to marry ? Go figure.
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Anyway, the whole entire subject of religion is one that I have little patience for. That people can be so entirely convinced that they are 100% right while all the others are dead wrong; and worse, try to impress upon me why I should adhere to their sect and no other, quickly blows my fuses. Heaven help the Mormons and 7th Day Adventists and Jehovah's Witnesses or whatever other bible thumpers may come knocking at my door. Our dog has very sharp teeth and hates to be bothered during his afternoon nap.
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I will end my rant here and get on to the photos. For me, religion is mainly an empty vessel, devoid of any real sustenance, other than a small amount of moral guidance, which for the most part should be common sense to any thinking individual. What chagrins me most about religions today is how much violence and hatred they still seem to spawn. And for some of them, one can't even joke about them without risking one's life. Whatever happened to the messages of tolerance and peace that supposedly were at the heart of such bodies ?
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An empty vessel, pillaged, tired, forlorn. Time to scrap it for something new . . .
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I wonder what prayer someone made when they left their bracelet on this figure in a mountain shrine ? As Leonard Cohen said, "When they said repent, repent, repent, I wonder what they meant?"
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This broken face of a Christ figure is the perfect embodiment to me of the current state of affairs in religion today . . . in need of considerable repairs. But like Humpty Dumpty, can the pieces be put back together again ? Should they be ???
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On the twisting and tortuous road that climbs from Saint Louis to Cilaos, this stark, forbidding church stood in a small village, just under the clouds. A verse from Matthew Arnold's lovely poem "Dover Beach" came to mind here :
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"The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world . . ."
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Fortunately there was a telephone and a fire hydrant in case anyone needed any help. The figure standing over the door of this church was one of the most fearsome I've ever seen of any religious art, those skeletal eye sockets could strike fear into the stoutest of hearts . . .
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These next two were inside the church in Saint Louis . . . a few lightbulbs out . . .

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Flowery roadside shrines were frequent . . .

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A shrine along the cliff face on a trail overlooking the Cirque de Mafate. I can see how people might think of religion in such places . . . from where this was taken, the fall could be long and the landing fatal. The fall is always looming I suppose, along the straight and narrow path . . .

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