I was 15 when I had my enlightenment. It’s strange how deeply an idea can progress in your mind over a period of only a few years but that’s the hold this realization had on me. I was in the hospital when it happened – my grandfather was sick, and his impending death was taking a toll on my family and me. It was a heartbreaking time in a harrowing location. Hospital employees mean well, but the hospitals themselves are not particularly enjoyable places –not exactly a setting I’d like to call home away from home. During and after my grandfather’s arduous death, I noticed one particular thing that I couldn’t wrap my mind around. Aside from the doctors and nurses, I felt like every corner I turned brought a new priest, rabbi or other religious figure. I was puzzled as to why religion had such a strong presence in an environment that nurtured scientific discovery and technological advancement. I needed to discover for myself why these people were here, and what their purpose they served in hospitals, rather than in religious establishments.

I remember that when the priest finished saying his final prayers over my grandfather’s dead body I had a gapingly empty hole in my stomach, as if something was missing. Then came the phrase that officially changed it all – the priest said, “God needed him, it was his time.” The first thing that came to my mind was how did this man – who didn’t even know my grandfather – know that it was my grandfather’s “time” to die. Did he have some special ability to communicate with God that we weren’t privy to? Was he somehow wiser or more clever than us, knowing that my grandfather had to die at that moment? And if so, why didn’t he warn us beforehand? Or, was he just saying all this to make us feel a little better about the situation? After asking myself the last mentioned question, I decided the answer had to be yes. I realized that these religious figures were essentially a crutch for the victim’s family. They were there to assure families that everything would be all right, and that their loved ones were swiftly off to the amusement park that is heaven. They were there for mental support, which I soon discovered to be unfounded.

Slowly but surely, citizens of the world are losing their ability to think both independently and critically. Many people’s beliefs are instead products of misleading influences  which have ahold of even their deepest unconscious thoughts. Many of these creations are designed to make one not recognize that they actually believe in them. Theoretically, one would never question a given belief they had been bred to recognize as absolute truth.

Our minds are constantly flooded with exponentially increasing stimuli that essentially numb our perception of experiences and interactions. We’ve been conditioned and brainwashed with various ideals and beliefs, yet we’re motionless to do anything but conform. Many of the universal concepts regarded as utterly factual couldn’t be further from the truth. On a daily basis, I observe as religion – among other concepts – pull a veil over the faces of the masses, and completely dilute their brain’s capacity to think freely. I can’t grasp how people could guide their lives by subhuman irrational rules such as that walking under a ladder will give them bad “luck,” or how that if a homeless person steals a loaf of bread they’ll be doomed to an eternity of torture in hell for their sin.

Religion takes the crown as the most widespread falsehood of all time. Time has showed me that religion – any religion – is nothing more than a lie that has been used to form the minds of countless individuals throughout history. Religion may provide comfort, but it comforts in response to a fear that often was created by the religion itself through its guidelines and teachings. The priest’s words at my grandfather’s deathbed, and then again at his funeral, were like puzzles with no solutions. Trying to follow, and rationalize what he was saying with facts, was like trying to walk on water. It was impossible – each verse and hymn brought me deeper and deeper, getting me more and more wet until I was both soaked and saturated.

Religion provides a set of guiding principles someone essentially made up (often with enthralling stories to support them), and then the members of this religion are expected to follow these given rules. Strangely to me, every religion has a very different set of rules. If there were a god, wouldn’t he hold all people of the world to the same standards? Why would certain people get a different set of instructions? Why can someone switch to a new religion with new rules, and what happens to the old ones if they do switch? What if they don’t want any rules at all?

Some of these rules and stories are as abstract and loony as fairy tales. Nevertheless, as a result of mind-forming procedures enacted by civilization and culture, I’m taught to believe religious stories as literal fact, and fairy tales as nothing more than a made up fable for children. Somehow something doesn’t add up. Sitting at my grandfather’s funeral, I was mystified by the intent concentration in the eyes of those listening to each word the priest had to say. Their alertness matched that of a crowd watching to see just how many bunny rabbits the magician could pull out of his hat.

Just because a lot of people believe something doesn’t make it true. Countless experiences and observations, coupled with my upbringing have taught me to believe things that seem logical, practical and rational. This does not apply to everyone. Continuous total immersion over extended periods of time can make a person believe anything, and that process is taking its toll on the minds of the people of the world. Children must be taught from a very young age to question everything. They must be taught to accept nothing as fact until they’re presented with legitimate proof as to the validity of the concept in question. Children must be taught to be smart, critical, individual thinkers, who are not swayed by century-old beliefs, yet would consider them truthful if genuine, undisputable proof were ever found.

Ryan Walsh is a Collegian columnist. He can be reached at [email protected].