Barroom Philosophers

I love to eavesdrop on the conversations of strangers in public. You never know what sort of delightful (and likely out of context) comment you will hear. Little snippets of conversation can entertain me in the moment even if I forget them the very next moment. But one particular night I was treated to something a bit more special. I overheard two men in the pub, probably in their mid thirties, discussing God in what sounded to be a very non conventional way. I was so intrigued that I asked if I could sit with them and just listen. They were fairly lit and more than happy to have someone join. They were in a dispute and each seemed eager to have an audience for their contest. It probably didn't hurt that I offered to buy them a pitcher. They introduced themselves as Mac and Nick. Drinks in hand, they continued their pursuit. Mac spoke first. He seemed to always be smiling.

"I actually do believe in a god, or whatever you want to call it. The Spirit that inhabits all life."

Nick wore an expression of thinly veiled contempt.

"Does this god speak to you? Does he intervene in your life? Does he answer your prayers?"

"He doesn't speak to me audibly. I don't know whether or not he intervenes, honestly. I don't pray except to tell him, or it, or whatever, 'thank you.'"

"Him or it or whatever."

Mac laughed, "Yes. Whatever."

"What do you thank him for? Or it for? Or whatever?"

"Life. The chance to experience the universe he created."

"And what about pain? Do you thank him for pain? And violence? Do you thank him for that?"

"No, it's beauty and peace that I thank him for. But honestly, sometimes I can see how beautiful everything is. Even death, violence, and pain."

"And disease. Let's not forget all of the beautiful diseases." Nick's sarcasm was apparent.

"Even disease."

"Your god sure allows a lot of horrible things to happen on this earth. Children are raped and murdered every day. People are blown to bits in pointless fucking wars", he seethed. "Your god is either all powerful or all good. There is no way he can be both. If he has the power to stop this and doesn't, then, at best, he is totally apathetic toward human suffering. At worst, he is a monster."

"Who said he was all powerful?"

Nick paused before replying, "Your Holy Bible."

"My Holy Bible? I don't believe in the Bible."

"Oh, that's right. God is a 'whatever' to you. So, then where do you get your belief of an everlasting god?"

"Revelation."

"Revelation", Nick repeated.

"Divine revelation."

"God revealed himself to you?"

"He did. I know that it sounds crazy, but he did."

"How?"

"Well, I had been reading Plato all morning one day...One of the dialogues, but I can't remember which one. I think it was probably the one where they condemn Socrates to death. Which one is that?"

"Apology."

"Right! I had been reading The Apology that morning. God, Socrates is brilliant in that one. That's the best one. They basically sentence him to death for being annoying", Mac laughed. "After he has been found guilty and the prosecution recommends the death penalty, they give Socrates a chance to suggest a lesser punishment and then the jury can vote between the two punishments. He recommends that not only should they not punish him, but they should reward him with a public position!" Mac's eyes sparkled as he excitedly and joyously gave this rendition. "Imagine the balls it takes to say that! His life was on the line! And of course, the jury chose death."

"I've read it", Nick responded coolly. "So, God revealed himself to you..."

"Right. After that, I was doing some chores, just picking up or whatever, and I got a hankering for some Mozart, specifically, the Lacrimosa movement of his Requiem Mass. That is such a great piece. I put in my earbuds and pulled it up on YouTube. I think I was actually making a sandwich at this point. Anyway, it was the first time I had ever listened to it with earbuds and you cannot imagine how much it adds to the experience. It gave me the chills. So, I decided to listen to it again. It was even better the second time. Positive vibes are all around me. I decide to listen to it a third time. Now the positive vibes are starting to overwhelm me. And as it begins to crescendo toward the end, it occurs to me that I was just reading a book that was written over two thousand years ago in Greece and now I'm listening to a song that was composed over two hundred years ago in Austria! And that it all seems like it was for me. And then the final 'amen' hits and BAM!" He slammed the table, accidentally sloshing some beer from his glass. "It was like a bolt of energy came rushing through me. Like it was...like I was a lightning rod. A spiritual lightning rod. It almost knocked me to the ground. I had to brace myself against the counter. Tears flooded my eyes. It was like a mental orgasm! And at that moment, I felt like I was part of all life at all times. Every blade of grass, every one who has ever lived, all connected through time and space by the life force!"

"Was my grandma there?"

Mac and I both laughed.

"No, I didn't see any individuals", Mac said as he smiled. "It was just...I don't know. All of life. Ever. And it was the greatest moment of my life."

"Praise the Lord."

"I know it sounds crazy."

"So, I'm supposed to believe in God based on your experience?"

"No. I do not feel compelled to convince you of anything. I'm just telling you what happened to me."

"Have you ever heard of Stendhal Syndrome?"

"No."

"He was...I'm not sure how long ago, but...here, I'll look it up." Nick pulled his phone up and began searching. While he did that, I offered to buy everyone a round of Bulleit bourbon. "Actually, could you make mine a Bulleit Rye? I like their bourbon, but I'm in love with their rye. Thank you so much, man!"

I returned with two shots of bourbon and one shot of rye. They each thanked me profusely before we clanked glasses and quickly gulped down the contents. "Ok, here it is", said Nick as he read from Wikipedia. "'Stendhal syndrome, Stendhal's syndrome, hyperkulturemia, or Florence syndrome is a psychosomatic disorder that causes rapid heartbeat, dizziness, fainting, confusion and even hallucinations when an individual is exposed to an experience of great personal significance, particularly viewing art.' Hear that? Hallucinations."

"Wow."

"Yeah, it was named after a famous French author from the 19th century named Stendhal (of course), who wrote about this feeling when he visited Florence." Nick went on to read what Stendhal had to say about his own experience. "'I was in a sort of ecstasy, from the idea of being in Florence, close to the great men whose tombs I had seen. Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty... I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations... Everything spoke so vividly to my soul. Ah, if I could only forget. I had palpitations of the heart, what in Berlin they call 'nerves.' Life was drained from me. I walked with the fear of falling."'

"That sounds a lot like what I experienced."

"Yes, it does."

"I've had a mild version of this several times before in my life. But this was the first full on mental orgasm."

Nick scoffed. "A mental orgasm."

"It was glorious."

"Well, you still haven't convinced me that there's a god."

"I was never trying to convince you."

I told the men to feel free to enjoy the rest of the pitcher without me, as I needed to be going. They thanked me again as I left. I learned on a later day that those two are always there discussing various aspects of the universe. And they always close the place down. They never tire of playing point and counterpoint. They never tire of drinking and talking. Basically, they never shut up. They need each other. Without the one, the other will pester any patron of the bar with the same sorts of questions about "truth" or "knowledge". I don't know if they ever find any answers. But at least they are searching.