I have trouble understanding why people who read the Bible or those Christian newsletters. The lady next to me was reading her Christian magazine from front to back with a concerning amount of focus. I couldn't help but analyse. Most people read for entertainment, escape or knowledge but this is different. This is comfort reading, reassurance in text, an explanation of life and a resounding 'everything will be OK' as someone will take responsibility for your sins... Each to their own.
I began to think of my own comfort reading. What do I read to reassure myself, to give myself hope when I'm unsure? And then it hit me... Here is my confession, my sins lay bare, my guilty pleasure is romance novels.
Mills and Boon is my religious text, my false hope. In my fantasy it isn't Jesus who cleanses me of my sins, it's a tall, handsome man with fantastically strong arms, a passion for romance, a healthy bank account and a desire for long term commitment.
SWOON
Maybe his name is Jesus, it worked for Madonna, but I'm not fussy..
When I analyse my own fantasy it isn't an actual deep-seated urge to be swept off my feet and void of any responsibility or free thought by this man on a white stallion. I am loving my independence and don't want it removed by some handsome stranger, or anyone for that matter. To be honest, if I did come across him I would probably find him too needy or not enough of a jerk for my liking. There is every possibility he may leave beard hairs in the sink and may not appreciate me giving him a detailed synopsis of every second newspaper article I read.
In essence, I don't want my sins resolved, I just want the reassurance that somewhere on an island far away, exists a man like this. That alone is enough for me. Just like the lady next to me, I don't have to meet Jesus to be reassured, I just need to think he exists.
So as the lady peered through her glasses at an article of what He says about forgiveness, I peered through mine, reading what great lengths he goes to convince her of his love and I'm sure we both felt better.
I began to think of my own comfort reading. What do I read to reassure myself, to give myself hope when I'm unsure? And then it hit me... Here is my confession, my sins lay bare, my guilty pleasure is romance novels.
Mills and Boon is my religious text, my false hope. In my fantasy it isn't Jesus who cleanses me of my sins, it's a tall, handsome man with fantastically strong arms, a passion for romance, a healthy bank account and a desire for long term commitment.
SWOON
Maybe his name is Jesus, it worked for Madonna, but I'm not fussy..
When I analyse my own fantasy it isn't an actual deep-seated urge to be swept off my feet and void of any responsibility or free thought by this man on a white stallion. I am loving my independence and don't want it removed by some handsome stranger, or anyone for that matter. To be honest, if I did come across him I would probably find him too needy or not enough of a jerk for my liking. There is every possibility he may leave beard hairs in the sink and may not appreciate me giving him a detailed synopsis of every second newspaper article I read.
In essence, I don't want my sins resolved, I just want the reassurance that somewhere on an island far away, exists a man like this. That alone is enough for me. Just like the lady next to me, I don't have to meet Jesus to be reassured, I just need to think he exists.
So as the lady peered through her glasses at an article of what He says about forgiveness, I peered through mine, reading what great lengths he goes to convince her of his love and I'm sure we both felt better.
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