PrintLauren slowed her chestnut gelding to a walk and turned to look at me. She had to squint because of the glare. Behind her were 100 acres of rolling grassy hills with jumps, banks and ditches scattered around. Behind me the sun was beginning its descent, tired after a morning of baking the already brown grass.
The horses had just finished a quiet training gallop on the hill behind the barn. It was a bit more restrained than I was expecting, but the neck of Lauren’s horse was still covered in a sweat that resembled thick white ocean foam. We were talking about everything except horses.
“So you don’t believe in evolution?” I asked again, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Lauren answered without sounding defensive at all: “If you are asking me if I believe that humans descended from monkeys, then no.”
Lauren is one of David and Karen O'Connor’s two full-time riders; she’s been with them almost four years. Lauren comes from the Midwest. At her high school they had drive-your-tractor-to-school day. Classes were scheduled to begin a week after the start of deer season. Lauren is intelligent and articulate, and she sure knows how to ride. She was recently chosen to be part of the U.S. Developing Riders team coached by the English eventing icon Capt. Mark Philips. And Lauren is a Catholic.
I recently heard that fundamentalist Christians have a derogatory term for more moderate Christians. They call them Cafeteria Christians, meaning they pick and choose what they like as they go down the line with their blue tray. They take a little of this and a little of that—a portion of forgiveness, a scoop of love thy neighbour. They take whatever quenches their hunger and their thirst. Sensible really. Instead of being an insult, Cafeteria Christian should be a compliment.
I was surprised when Lauren told me she was a creationist. I’d always thought evolution was not a matter of faith but a matter of fact. Before I met Lauren, creationists were like caricatures—alive only in my imagination. They lived in a different place—a land where they might speak a different language or have three eyes. And they existed in an earlier era, or at least before the age of mass government sponsored education.
I asked Lauren, “How can you not believe in evolution? Do you believe dogs evolved from wolves? Do you believe that horse you are sitting on and zebras share a common ancestor? It’s not such a big leap to believe all creatures have the same origins, is it?”
“But it’s also not such a big leap to believe God created Heaven and Earth? To me that makes a lot more sense. Really it’s all about faith. Not everything we are taught makes sense right away. But when you are ready, you understand,” she answered.
Lauren has faith. It’s something all religions share, a belief in something greater than themselves. No matter how ridiculous it may seem to me. I guess that’s why they call it faith. And a belief in the creation of man on the seventh day is just one part of her faith.
There is a lot to adjust to here, even more so than in Germany. Everything from religion to the small nuances in the way the barn is run and the horses are ridden. It quickly became obvious to me that in Florida I am the different one, the one with a third eye.
