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I didn't really expect anyone to believe in my conversion, and yet it seems that a few people, even for a moment, thought: finally, our he! No, it's just an April Fool's joke. A joke that provoked an eruption of anger of some orthodox believers, which at the same time perfectly revealed their way of seeing the world and their attitude towards their neighbor. It is interesting how much filth can spill out of the mouths of these people who supposedly love God and his creation. Indeed, they bear witness with their words.

I would like to point out that I can't be converted, and that's for one reason, that in order to go back somewhere, you have to be there at least for a short time. "Conversion" is a very clever Polish word, one of those that seemingly only describes the phenomenon, but in fact it has a positive emotion sewn into it, a positive connotation, an unambiguous indication of the destination to which the converted person returned - this is of course the Catholic Church. In Polish, we are unlikely to say "converted to Islam", it clearly clashes, violates the usage of this word. Nor can you "convert to atheism." This word is as if reserved for the Catholic context.

And there is nothing abnormal about it, as it is with many words that, due to their history within a particular culture, describe one phenomenon well, while at the same time they are not suitable for describing related phenomena. Often these words are not morally indifferent, they have an evaluative character precisely because of the past that follows them. The history of the Polish language is closely related to the history of the Church, the Polish language has it in it and it is good to remember this, because sometimes we say more than it might seem at first glance, we evoke a mental reaction in the recipient that is contrary to our intention. Such a word, particularly burdened with connotations in Polish, is, for example, the word Żyd. And in this case it is a consequence of the ecclesiastical (though not only!) processing of meanings.

And so I started with a joke and ended up reflecting on how what we can and want to say about the world depends on the language we speak. This is also a problem with Scripture and its translations.

It is not enough that what today is compact print was created over hundreds of years, being constantly reworked, it is not enough that today we do not have any original of even one of the books of the New Testament, not only do we sometimes have hundreds of versions of the same passages, not only does comparative research unequivocally show that the most sacred of sacred writings were impudently corrected or changed by scribes (or simply carelessly rewritten), not only did tens and hundreds of years after the writing of these texts, a group of people arbitrarily recognized some of them as canonical (and inspired) and others as apocryphal (i.e. uninspired), although even the inspired ones contradict each other as to the events described, and especially their interpretation - we still have all this mediated by translations into our language, which it adds its own meanings, connotations, emotions and evaluations, which cannot be escaped in any way. It is impossible to create a perfect translation, because it is simply impossible - Italians say traduttore traditore - a translator is a traitor. Also because time flows inexorably, changing the meanings of words, sentences, stories. This is proved by our @dezerter (greetings! I'm not going to the SJ ceremony), who mentions translations of translations and negates some other translations.

So, no, all doubts didn't vanish in a flash. If I ever feel that I have absolutely no doubts, I will know that I have lost touch with reality. Wish it hadn't happened to me.