Religion and College: Confession

Alright, a quick recap: I am born and raised a Roman Catholic, went through Confirmation, but ultimately came to UNH as an agnostic, not knowing what to believe about a God or a man Jesus. Here I have come to realize that human beings are limited as to how much we can know about the universe, that in everything we require some sort of faith to just operate on a practical level. I have also realized about myself that I love people, but too often have been overly sexual in expressing that love. 

Through my interactions with people in my life, I have come to realize that there is a certain undeniable strength of character that adherents of faith have. At the same time, as an RA and just as a talkative sociable person, I have met many people for whom my heart breaks on account of their attempts at filling this "void" I mention in one of the previous columns. I have seen people rocking the bottle, chasing girls and/or guys, overachieving for grades, hoarding friends, diving into video games, obsessing over popular culture, all as means of an escape or to find some sort of fulfillment in life.

Seeing all of this just in such a small population here at college, I am not surprised by our nation's high divorce rate, abuse in relationships, broken families, and just overall depressing home lives. Do I think that "religion" or religious faith is a cure-all for this? Not by any means. In fact, I do not think there is any simple answer for anything. But I have hope. I have hope that things can get better, and that they will for each individual. I write this column to share that hope, to offer how I have realized it and to find out how others have for themselves.

Alright, so what am I getting at here? Where have I found hope in my life, and why did I need to have this "religious experience" on Aug. 25 to find it? Shifting gears for a second...
Cheating in relationships is never a simple matter. It is never as shallow as "I just got too drunk and this girl was hitting on me and…" or "You weren't providing enough support for me so went somewhere else to get it…" It can be any number of complicated reasons, reasons that ultimately combine to bear out one experiential fact: For a certain length of time, my heart, soul, my whole being was not dedicated and devoted to you.

I know from experience. I am a cheater.

"Sean, you tell people exactly what you think they want to hear." My friend told me at the end of the year last year. I had talked about him behind his back. He heard it. He called me out on it as I tried to apologize. I was defensive at first, but it was not the first time someone has commented on my character. Nobody likes to hear the ugly truth about them. So that was the truth: I was someone who, even perhaps with the best intention, was duplicitous. I did not have a solid core; I was a big cloud of ego. A huge cloud, depending on who you ask. Excessive pride is absolutely one of my worst character traits. I have plenty. Need some?

I was whoever people defined me as.

This article has been a long time coming. I have been too afraid to write it, quite honestly. Cheating is emotionally heavy stuff. It is shameful. Openly admitting that I am duplicitous, that hurts too, especially if anyone reading this has been victim of that. So I was afraid that I would turn readers away because they did not want to read about some weak, poor bloke who could not keep his word and lied to people.

The reason I share these things is because it is ultimately amazing to me and to long-time friends of mine the amount of change that has happened in my life. In all of my dating relationships, and even outside of them, I cannot honestly say that I had the hope they would last. I occasionally had this negative view that I was too weak to remain committed for so long. Even when I felt like I could commit myself to a relationship, I recognized that I was imperfect, that I had said similar things before and failed. Now, for the first time in my life, I look forward to the possibility of a relationship and realize that because of my faith, I know I will be able to commit myself to a person as deeply and as passionately as I can and do to that faith.

I struggle at this point to talk further about what my new-found faith has done for me. The reason is quite simple: if you are reading this and not used to faith-language, then when I say something like "I struggle daily to die to myself and live for Christ," it sounds bizarre, Jesus-crazy, and useless in the long run. Trust me, I've been there, listening to friends and non-friends talk about the presence of God, thinking to myself "this sounds unnecessary."
People may be right. Maybe I did not need a "God" or Jesus to enter my life and offer me hope and healing. Maybe I just needed to look at what I was doing, wait for the right person, and avoid my weaknesses. Perhaps. Yet, the one thing I understood before I ever uttered the words "I believe in a God" was that healing through purely human means is going to be imperfect. Nobody would claim that humans are perfect, and because of that, nothing we ever try to do, no effort we make, is going to be perfect and complete. Healing is very much the same. Only through an external, perfect source could we hope for perfect healing.

Keep on asking, keep on searching.

Hope is there.

Sean Matthews is a senior philosophy major who found religion to be a helpful part of his life in college. In this column, he explores the idea of how religion can fit into a college student's life, and he shares his story in hopes that you'll find a connection with your own experience.