Still here!

This Holiday season (haha- so PC) has been crazy busy.  I will be back finishing my Thanksgiving posts anytime now.  I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas/ Solstice/ Hannukah/ Kwanzaa :)  Be back sometime soon. 

Thanksgiving, Part II. Intervention.

I rested my head in my hands and wished with all my might that I could disappear.  The words my uncle had just said echoed in my mind “We hear that you’ve decided to leave the LORD.”  

I felt extremely undignified for a conversation such as this; donned in sweats, face make-up free, hair in a goofy, bedtime bun.  Teresa and I had just had a wonderful evening meeting with a cousin of mine at Colorado’s gem of a piano bar, The Golden Bee.  Fortunately, I’d only had one martini, and had eaten plenty of the complimentary crackers, because if there was ever a time to be sober, this was it.  

“Is that true, Tricia?” 

We’d returned to my aunt and uncle’s house, where my parents, Teresa, and I were staying at around 11.  It felt to me like midnight because of the time change, and I was exhausted after driving 8 hours that day (which ended up being surprisingly free of confrontation from my parents- no overt words about my beliefs).  We entered their huge house, which loomed in darkness, and said to each other “I guess everyone’s in bed.”  As we felt our way up the stairs, passing the high-ceilinged living room where earlier that evening, we had all sat with our wine (Uncle W__ with his Scotch, neat) listening to my aunt and uncle’s vinyl’s play through their extremely expensive and high quality audio system.  That evening, everyone had been so cordial and enjoyable.  As we passed the living room, out of the shadows, we heard my uncle’s baritone voice say “Hey girls!”  We both jumped!  Then, looked over to where the disembodied voice had come from, we saw my aunt and uncle, wearing only their robes and reclining in their comfortable leather chairs, icy glasses containing Polish potato vodka within arm’s reach.

 “Oh wow!  Hi, W__.”  He could tell we were shaken and said “Sorry to scare you!  Did you have a good time?  Did you drink a yard?”  The Bee is known for its “yards”, yard tall glasses filled with the brew of your choice.  “Oh no!!  I could never!”  “What?  No yard?  Did you at least have a few drinks?”  “Well, one.”  “One?  And you said you had a good time!  Impossible!”  “Uhh, I guess we’re not as wild as you are.”  “Ha!”  “Okay… I’m pretty tired and cold.  I’m going to get ready for bed,” I said as I started up the stairs.  They kept Teresa down a few more seconds as I dreamily thought of getting a good night’s sleep.  

A minute later, my face was washed, I was in my PJs, and Teresa said, “They want us to come back down and talk.”  They are almost 70 years old.  I’ve always just been a kid to them.  It boggled me that they wanted to have a late night, adult chat with me, but I figured if they had beckoned, I had better go.  

“Thanks for coming back down, girls.”  The set-up was so weird.  There they were, looking so in control, reclining in the shadows, drinks in hand.  There we were, two young ladies wearing pajamas, sitting on the couch right by the weakly glimmering kitchen light so our faces could be seen, but theirs could not.  Then, as unexpectedly as ever, the words poured out of his mouth “We hear that you’ve decided to leave the LORD.”  My aunt chimed in “Is that true, Tricia?”

I laughed to ease the tension, leaned back, stole a glance at Teresa as if to say “Is this really happening?”, then managed to speak.  “This is really personal.  I wish my parents hadn’t said anything to you about it.”  But it was what it was.  They knew, and they wanted to save me.  

My uncle dominated the conversation.  He told me about all of the signs of the time, his certainty that the LORD will return very soon.  He told me exactly how it would all play out, the future.  His ideas mirrored those in the Left Behind series.  Israel, wars, earthquakes, an Antichrist, the rapture, 7 years of torment for everyone left, “but the children born then would be automatically saved,” then the end to this earth.  “And you want to be sure that you are one of the one’s making it in the Rapture.  You do not want to be down here when the torment is taking place.”  They were evangelizing to me, in a really weird way.  And not only were their methods strange, it was also strange that I was in an evangelism conversation, on the opposite side.  I wondered why they were trying to convert me when I had already grown up Christian and heard everything they were telling me. 

In addition to sensationalist doctrine on the End Times, there were some accusations.  My aunt said, “But, Tricia, we thought you already made this decision.  We thought you had a real relationship with Jesus.”  There were warnings about what could happen to me if I really walked away.  Then some bashing evolution.  There was a moment when my aunt said to Teresa “You’ve been awfully quiet.  What do you think of this?”  (Like someone who only just met these highly opinionated people would be honest about her thoughts!  She had a truth omitting answer: I'm a pastor's daughter [true, but telling?  Still, they accepted it, even asking her to try and steer me in the right direction])  They even warned me about joining “the Arab religion” (really???).  Occasionally, they asked me questions, provided me with gates to enter this “conversation” (it was more like a sermon). 

I had so many things I wanted to say, but I knew that no matter how kind and rational my defensive argument, I could not “win” this battle.  Still, I summoned up the strength and tranquility that I wasn’t feeling and proceed to defend myself.  I explained to them that, yes, I had been a real, very believing Christian.  I’d read my Bible daily, I thought I may one day be a missionary in a faraway country, I lived differently than so many people my age.  I wondered what I needed to do to prove that I hadn’t lived my life up to now as a fake Christian!  But then I explained about the people I’ve read about online or in books who have been to seminary and become pastors, preached before a congregation for years, then have admitted to themselves that they just could not believe and walking away.  

I explained how I had had doubts all of my college years, doubts that had kept me from evangelizing to others, doubts that kept me from feeling like a good Christian, doubts that ate away at my self-esteem.  This break from religion was a long time coming.  I told them that I was not trying to walk away from the LORD, I was only trying to tackle questions that have gnawed at me for years.  Trying to view and process them objectively while still considering yourself a Christian does not work.  You are biased.  The only way to get a balanced view of truth is to detach yourself from belief systems and look at multiple perspectives.  I explained that, if after much research and thought processing, I realize that the Christian beliefs are really true, then I will come back to them with a faith stronger than ever before.  I don’t think God would be mad at me for doing what I needed to do to renew and strengthen my faith.

But, to refute their End Times words, which made up a large percentage of what he said, I said, “Honestly, a return to Christianity would have to be motivated by reasoning and authentic belief, not fear.”  I didn’t even begin to tackle his unsubstantiated claims about evolution, or try to tell him how rude it is to refer a religion that millions of non-Arab people adhere to as “the Arab religion.”  Mostly, I kept things to myself, and wished for this session to come to a close.

Finally, about 45 minutes after Teresa and I had blissfully come in from the cold night, the sermon ended.  I told them that I appreciated what I realized was well-intended, but that I was very tired and did not want to discuss my beliefs any longer.  They were able to respect that, and after some slightly awkward hugs and “Love you’s”, we left our places in the cold, dim living room and returned to our chambers.  My head was reeling for about another 30 minutes with disbelief over what had just happened.  I wondered if once Teresa and I had left for The Bee earlier that night, my parents had shared what was happening with me to them.  I imagined them discussing it in that chilly living room very worriedly, my parents lamenting the loss of a sheep, my aunt and uncle vowing to help them bring me back.  It made me sick to think about.  As I lay in bed trying to quiet my mind, I couldn’t help but realize that until (that is, if I ever do this) I come back to Christianity, my family and friends will pray for me, mourn for my loss, and think that I made a terrible mistake when I decided to leave the LORD, as W__ put it.  

But as you all should know, it's not something you decide.  You can only believe what makes sense to you.  I don't feel bad for doing what I need to do to get to beliefs that I can actually believe.  I just hope that whatever I end up believing doesn't alienate me from my family and friends, or lead to many more Come to Jesus talks.  They are tiring.

Thanksgiving, Part I

This year for Thanksgiving, I, again, traveled with my parents (see the Malibu post for another recent trip with them).  Plans were to drive to Colorado (8 hours) on Wednesday, eat dinner with about 30 of my relatives (with the addition of my good blog commenting friend Teresa!), drive back to Teresa's house for a 2 day visit, return to my family on Saturday night, then drive back to Kansas on Sunday morning.  Of course, I'm typing on Saturday, so most of the trip has taken place.

You may have noticed the Part I in the title.  If little had taken place, religiously speaking, I would be able to lump this into one post, but as of right now, I'm pretty sure this will be a 4 part series... that's how blog worthy this vacation has been.

Part I begins a few days before the departure, Saturday morning (the 20th).  I was in the basement of our house, actually watching 30 Rock on hulu, when suddenly my mother emerged out of the laundry/storage room and, out of the blue, interrupts Liz Lemon with "Tricia, how are you doing spiritually?"

"Ugh..." I groaned.  "Mom, I want to talk to you about this later."

"No, I want to talk about it now."  I paused my computer.

Then, I did it.  The thing I had been pushing away for weeks, confessing to the people who have always been so proud of me, knowing they would be very disappointed.  It was not according to my schedule, but I guess often times things involving other people aren't.  I laid out my cards before her.  She seemed mildly surprised.  She had tears in her eyes, but did not sob, as she said, "You're so much like me," then told me about her walk away from religion at around my age.  She asked a few questions about triggers.  Then, it was done.  She picked up her laundry basket and walked upstairs.

"Wait, Mom!"  She looked back.  "Don't tell Dad.  I want to wait until after our trip.  Please don't tell him yet."

She nodded, then, more slow paced than usual, made her way up the stairs.

I resumed my 30 Rock episode.  End of scene.

...........................................................................................................................................................................................................

Wednesday morning, the day of departure: my mom hadn't said anything else to me about my current agnosticism.  Our goal was to leave by 7:00, and it was about 6:30 when I passed my dad in the kitchen to grab a mug of coffee and my peanut butter toast.  I was, for once, ready very early and had time to kill, so I planned on watching the episode of glee from the night before that I had missed.  What is it about watching TV and having revealing conversations with my parents?  (I really don't watch much TV at all!)  On my way out of the doorway, my dad said,"Tricia?"  I pivot, mug and plate in hand.  "Yeah?"  "Um, Mom says you're having a kind of faith crisis."

I about dropped my breakfast.  "Dad, I'm not going to talk about this right now."  Then, I left, completely shocked and upset that my mom did tell my dad (yeah, yeah, I know that spouses should be honest about things like that, but I knew that both of my parents knowing would mean that all of my family would soon know, and that the 16 hours in which we'd be sharing a very confined space could feel like 61 hours).  For the next 40 minutes, I thought little about it (thank you, glee!)  Then, once everyone was actually ready (more like 8:10), sat in the car and waited for what I expected would be an onslaught of apologetics...

Science vs. Religion? Is that even a fair question?

I stumbled across an article on the Big Questions website I posted a couple of weeks ago.  The following paragraph struck me as interesting:


"The models generated by biochemical processes in our brains constitute “reality.” None of us can ever be completely sure that the world really is as it appears, or if our minds have unconsciously imposed a misleading pattern on the data. I call this belief-dependent realism. In my forthcoming book, The Believing Brain, I demonstrate the myriad ways that our beliefs shape, influence, and even control everything we think, do, and say about the world. The power of belief is so strong that we typically form our beliefs first, then construct a rationale for holding those beliefs after the fact. I claim that the only escape from this epistemological trap is science. Flawed as it may be because it is conducted by scientists who have their own set of beliefs determining their reality, science itself has a set of methods to bypass the cognitive biases that so cripple our grasp of the reality that really does exist out there."
*Emphasis added


(You can read the whole article here)
I would have to agree that science, at least genuine, truth-seeking science, can be relied upon when considering what is real.  This morning, when reading the book that I am very slowly making my way through (but thoroughly enjoying), Guy P. Harrison's 50 Reasons People Give for Believing in a God, I read the chapter on the reason "Science can't explain everything."  Upon reading the chapter title, I inwardly journeyed back to an Elementary Education Science class I had with a Physics professor (who, it turns out, is a member of the UU church in town, a member of the atheist group here, and someone who gives presentations on how Evolution and God do not have to be contradictory ideas) who, on the first day of class set aside time to discuss the limits of Science.  I found his words very useful and still do.  He said something like this


"Science sets out to discover the world around us.  It is based on testable evidence, a wide community of scientists who contribute to the pool of science after rigorous experimentation, and the understanding that there are certain things that science cannot touch, matters of faith being one of them.  Because faith requires its followers to believe without seeing and science is all about testing until you can see, they seem incompatible.  Faith cannot be combated with Science or vice verse.  They are on different planes.  In that same way, you cannot claim that a religious book is a scientific textbook, since it was most likely written for moral and spiritual guidance.  Allow each field to do what its definition allows for it to do and you'll find that there are fewer fights between the religious and the scientific."


I felt good hearing this scientist not belittle the Bible or any religion, but rather remind us to keep each system in its place.  As Thomas Aquinas said, "All truth is God's truth."  As long as the Scientists were not maliciously working to kick God out or be dishonest, then I figured their corner of truth could be trusted.  I've always had a hard time with friends or family members who think that evidence for dinosaurs is a hoax that the secularists have created in order to try and make the Bible's creation account look incorrect.  Or that evolutionary scientists are just out to disprove God.  I cannot believe that a huge body of intelligent, rational people, especially people who by their definition (scientists), are obsessed with truth, would work that hard to hide the truth.  I used to find it much more likely that the parts of the Bible that seemed to speak on science had been dumbed down by God so that the readers would be able to understand. 


More on my old, professor-influenced beliefs on science and religion...  I actually looked into teaching at a school overseas and began an application to National Institution of Christian School.  I have pasted excerpts of the application.  These are things I wrote while I was a definite believer, but not someone who closed my ears to other fields of knowledge:


What are your beliefs about the Bible being the inspired and infallible word of God?
"... I must say that I believe the Bible has complete authority, but that God has the authority to communicate to us in ways that may be layered; not necessarily like a modern-day history or science textbook.  I can say that the Bible is literal, if “literal” means it communicates what the author or inspirer (God!) intended for it to communicate in the way He intended for the material to be presented.  Was earth really formed in exactly 7 days?  Is the origin of multiple languages really the result of God’s disapproval of the building of the Tower of Babel?  Or are these just ways that God communicated hard to understand truths to the Bible’s readers so that they would see that He has been composing every part of the earth’s history, from its beginning to its peoples’ languages, to its natural disasters, to its end?  I know that God is true and honest, but I think His way of speaking to His scribes may have, in some cases, been more poetry than prose, and I can accept that and still believe in Him and His Word.  The Bible tells God’s story, and is meant to inform readers about His love, majesty, and grace, not be a textbook.  I love the Word for what it is, a divinely inspired document that transcends time and cultures to present God’s love, truth, and grace to its readers."


What do you believe about the origin of the earth and mankind?
"I believe that God is the only Creator.  Chance, nature, and science are not in charge of the world and its origin.  I believe that God created everything that exists in His time, whether that was literally 7 days as we define them or not.  I believe He created mankind and that although He loved them and saw them as good, they sinned against Him and have sinned against Him since.  I believe that we, humans, are inherently sinful and can only be good if God lives in us, which can only happen if we accept the grace that Jesus offered to us when He died on the cross.  God continues to love us, even though we've done nothing to deserve it."


I actually didn't finish the application.  I remember agonizing over that question on origin, deleting a lot of my initial answer, which I thought the Christian teaching organization would not accept.  As reasonable as I find those answers to be, I felt like they (and other answers that I've not included on things like alcohol use and my daily quiet times) were too liberal to even bother with applying to a mission organization.  I imagined the HR person reading my answers and judging my faith, giving me their religious litmus test.  I'm now very glad I didn't end up going in that direction!  Can you imagine how crazy this process would be if I was teaching in a conservative Christian community overseas?  Oivey.


What are your (believers, atheists, agnostics, uncertains all are welcome to answer) thoughts on the boundaries of science and religion?  Is it possible to be a Christian scientist (not a Scientologist!) and maintain intellectual honesty? Is the use of science and logic helpful when trying to decide which (if any) religion to commit to? 

ps.  Sorry this font size/ spacing is off.  Sometimes formatting bewilders and aggravates me!

Grace Episcopal Cathedral

The Episcopal church that I went to last Sunday is in a beautiful Gothic cathedral, very close to the beautiful Gothic style high school that I attended.  I've been to it a few times for things unrelated to church.  Every year, my high school choir did a Spring concert at Grace Cathedral.  The acoustics, the incredible organ, and the ambiance usually made for our best concert of the year.  Most recently, I attended the annual event that Grace hosts, Silents in the Cathedral, in which old spooky silent films are shown, right around Halloween.  Obviously, Grace is all for using its beautiful space as a gift to the community.  I was excited to learn more about what happens on Sunday mornings in this place I'd been to only on weekday evenings.

As I walked in, I realized that I hadn't been to church in a month!  I'm glad I did this project, but it's not always fun visiting a new church by yourself, especially when you don't believe a lot of what's being said during the sermon.  Still, I committed to this for a reason.  I was glad to be following through with my plan that morning.

The service reminded me of the Catholic service I attended a couple of months ago (you can read about that here) in its rigidity, its weekly Eucharist, and the formality of the service.  One thing that I liked about Grace even before I attended was the effort the staff members made to make visitors feel welcomed by providing a Get Acquainted document on their website with the hopes that it would make all of the rituals and processes a little less confusing and foreign.  Of course, I still fumbled through the service, failing at my attempt to look natural. 

The readings were all on the End Times: Isaiah 65 17-25, which paints a picture of what the redeemed kingdom will look like; Thessalonians 3:6-13, which exhorted the members of the young church to continue living their lives and not putting down everything to wait for Jesus to return, which many of them were doing; and Luke 21:5-19, in which Jesus warns his disciples of things that must happen before the end can come ("Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes...")  When I realized this sermon would be on the End Times, I braced myself (excitedly) for a much more liberal interpretation of End Times prophecies than I've heard at my church.

I'm going to go off on a little tangent.  The End Times!!  I don't remember being terribly fixated on when Jesus would return before we moved here (though I remember sermons on it).  Sidenote to the sidenote: Brief church-going history for me [in order]: 6 years at a Presbyterian church, 2 years at a Four Square church, 3 years at a Vineyard church, 5 years at a Methodist church, then 7 years at the Bible church I have attended where I live now, plus summers at a Methodist or Congregational church with my gradma.  My parents weren't just indecisive; we moved a few times.  I'm guessing that the Four Square church talked a lot about Jesus' return, but it wasn't until we began going to the Bible church here when I was 15 that it became preached to me again and I began taking it in more. Basically, the church I'm at right now is very Biblical.  I love the pastor because he really works to remain true to the Bible- all of it, even those counter-cultural passages like the ones above.  I always trusted his teaching and I'm sure that he is sincere in his beliefs.  My apprehension about the idea of an Apocalypse has nothing to do with any cooky presentation or weird twist on Scripture.  I've just never longed for Jesus' return the way that my parents or some people I know do.  The idea of earthquakes, plagues, an antichrist, and even Jesus "rescuing" his followers from this world scared me.  Not to mention my abhorrence of the thought that all the believers would be rescued, but all of my nonchristian friends, no matter how lovely or gracious or helpful, would be tormented here on earth, then sent for more torment in hell.  I avoided learning about the End Times scripture partly because I figured my time was better spent trying to live for God in the here and now and let him worry about when he was going to fulfill his prophecies.  Then there's the Dispensationalists who search for signs that God is returning, or when signs are not showing up, force them in the hope that they will speed up God's return (i.e. supporting Israel no matter how unfair they are with Palestine because you believe that they are the ones who are vital to God's plan of returning- I read a book several years ago on this, Whose Land?  Whose Promise).  I haven't been able to really ignore End Times prophecy, however, because my parents (and some friends) are really into it.  My mom actually thought that Obama may have been the antichrist.  She's taken a 2 year Bible study on Revelation and  considers herself quite the expert, often saying things to me like "There really are so many signs right now that the End is near."  Then there's my dad, who pipes into discussions on future plans, even for things as mini as weekends away, with this comment "Well you never know for sure.  Jesus might return before then!"  And he's being dead serious.  So, with my notions of what Apocalypse sermons meant, I really wondered how this Episcopal pastor would tread on the waters of End Times scripture.

Indeed, it was different.  The preacher said "Excessive concern about the End Times is a distortion of God's word."  Whoa!  On the gospel passage, he said that many get excited and believe that Jesus is naming things that must happen before the Day of Judgment can come, but that he thinks they are taking it too literally.  He believes that when Jesus says "As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down," Jesus was encouraging the disciples (and us) to remember that all we see will turn to dust, but that we need to place value in the everlasting and do our best to live every day dwelling in the fruits of the Spirit, not fixated on when the End will come.  The preacher acknowledged that to live looking ahead, waiting impatiently for the End, and trying to be fully here and contributing to this world is impossible.  "We are called to serve God in this world, not to sit and look to the sky for signs."  He said this wonderfully un-dispensationalist (I'm sure there's a word for that) statement: "The future belongs to God, and that's all I really need to know."

There always seem to be some "I'm new here" blunders, and this Sunday was no exception.  During communion, I went forward, scanning the people who were getting Eucharised in front of me to try and see how it was done here, thinking "I should have read the pdf document more carefully!"  I remembered that you were supposed to place your right hand over your left to receive the wafer, and then you'd get to dip it into the goblet of wine... right?  Actually, you keep it in your hands like that and the guy in charge of the blood of Jesus will pick it up, dip it in the wine, then feed it to you.  It all happened so fast!  I realized as he was moving the half-soaked wafer from the gold goblet to my confusedly opened mouth that he was going for the tongue.  I moved my mouth to prepare for landing, but somehow my teeth got in the way and he bumped into them.  Then, I about bit his finger off, trying to move again.  He awkwardly said, "Sorry!" then I moved along.

Then, after the wafer was down and communion had ended, the congregation stood up and began doing what I thought was the greeting part of the sermon.  I thought it was a strange part of the service to be greeting (they'd not had a greeting portion earlier in the service), but I went along with it.  When someone behind me shook my hand and said something, I said "Good!  How are you?" then another hand was reaching towards me for a shake, this time the owner of the hand was more articulate.  "Peace."  Ohhhh, this was a congressional reminder that because we had been cleansed and forgiven, we now had peace.  I caught on after that :)  "Peace... peace... peace..."

Other notable things about this visit were the music and the aggressive style of making me feel welcome.  Because of those same acoustics that helped make my high school choir sound so heavenly, the music was stunning (and the choir talented).  I was given a hand out on a Grace Cathedral concert series.  It is nice of them to loan their majestic venue out to musicians, or really, the community.  Also, the level of "We've got to meet the new girl" here was comparable to the level at Antioch Missionary Baptist Church.  Both churches had one or two staff members eying congregants like hawks, making sure they noticed strangers.  Once a newbie was identified, after the service, the newbie was sure to get a firm hand shake, a welcome gift bag, a guided tour down toward the lobby area, then refreshments.  No newbie can opt out of any of those things, not with the skilled salesmen the churches have on staff.  Haha!  I will say, it made me feel welcomed, but maybe slightly guilty, since I will not be returning, at least not for a church service.

the lure of leisure learning

Although there are times when all I feel like doing is lying low, watching TV (and by TV, of course I mean hulu- no cable for me), or being social, since I've started this blog and admitted to myself that I want to live in question land for a while, my pastime of choice is reading, thinking, and writing on religion. 

For instance, it's Saturday night and I just spent about an hour mulling through this gem of a website:

http://www.bigquestionsonline.com/

I also checked some blogger's posts.  I made my way to some new bloggers, whose thoughts fascinated me.  Some I commented on, some I did not.  Right now, my mind is housing inspiration for 5 different posts.  I can't help but think about religion every day.  It's exciting.

And it has the potential to be bad, to take over.  As noble and important as the journey for truth may seem, I guess I do have a life outside of it... There are times (like right now), when my eyes grow wider with each article title or blog post I scan on my computer screen and all I want to do is push everything in my comparatively humdrum life aside and learn!  Sometimes the daily routine -hitting the snooze button, stumbling out of bed, going to work, driving to my other work, tidying up, going back to bed- can seem mundane and insignificant when compared to the few minutes every day that I can usually dedicate to this "quest."  

But those daily things that can feel so small, well, they accumulate to form my life!  I really can't stop working so that I will be able to sort this out.  If I were to consistently give in to my desires to read or blog surf into the wee small hours, my wellness would decline.  If I ignored very real, pesky earthly things such as student loan notices, I would feel the pain.  

I have to sometimes slow down my anxious mind, full of questions and uncertainties, and tell it to just focus on today.  Not let the big questions of humankind rest too heavily on my shoulders.  To get too caught up in them would be to make sacrifices in my personal life.  Does anyone else reading this struggle with this passion problem?

Religion- you just can't escape it!

You know What About Bob, right?  If you don't, open a new browser window, go to amazon.com and buy yourself a copy for 99 cents.  Classic early 90's movie!  Anyway, you know how Bob wants to go on a vacation from his problems?  Well guess what?  I've tried.  They follow you.  You may initially think you've outran them, but they will catch up to you.

I didn't go on a vacation to escape my problems.  I went to California this weekend because a distant cousin (who I hadn't even every met!) was getting married, and when you're given a chance to go to a Malibu beach wedding, you take it!

However, my carefree weekend in LA/ Malibu was not thought free.  From the moment my parents and I got into their car at 7 am Saturday morning to head to the airport, I realized that my unbelief would collide with several of the things that they said over the weekend, but that I needed to just hold all of my doubts inside, at least for a little while longer.  Here are some of the ways that I had encounters with religion on my vacation:

• On the drive to the Kansas City airport, we were running a bit behind.  I just say something like, "They will board half an hour early, so we need to hurry so that we don't miss boarding," and my dad responded by encouraging me to stop worrying and, instead, pray.  "God will take care of us."  But, why would God reward irresponsibility and lack of punctuality like that?  And wouldn't God rewarding us by postponing the flight punish others for their timeliness?  
• Once our plane landed, I turned on my phone and got a text from one of my college friends who is getting married in May.  She wanted to know if I will sing in her wedding!  I agreed to it, then she let me know that it will be a Catholic Mass... she's not sure which songs she wants in her ceremony yet, but now I'm wondering if I'll be singing lyrics that I really don't agree with.  Weird to think about.  Who knows what I'll believe by May? 
• At the Enterprise rental car place, while we were waiting for our request for a car to be processed, my dad gave one of the workers a tract.  Now, my dad's favored tract is The Four Spiritual Laws, but the tract he was handing out was one he had found on the ground of the airport.  He was recycle evangelizing, I suppose.  I've never felt okay with tracts because there is no way that leading someone to a hard to arrive at Truth is as easy as giving them a pamphlet.  I was always more for the relationship and discussion sort of evangelism (though I could never really muster up the strength to go beyond wordly talk and into the realm of real "witnessing" in that way either).  Tracts are just embarrassing.  The person giving the tract probably doesn't know the person the tract is being given to very well, yet this person is engaging that person in a very personal way, over something the giver feels is absolutely vital.  Who knows what the receiver's beliefs are, or if this person is even in the mood to consider something so weighty?  And is there really anyone who actually likes hand-outs and pamphlets?  When walking a busy street, who actually enjoys passing someone handing out coupons or party invites?  You feel compelled to treat them like a human being, acknowledge them, and accept what it is they are handing to you.  But where does that paper usually end up within minutes?  Yes, crumpled up in the bottom of your purse or at the top of a trash can.  Or who enjoys those parcels that arrive in your mailbox every day that contain a message the sender wants you to receive, but are not at all personal?  The credit card letter saying you have been pre-approved, the political ad slandering another politician, the charity hoping you will contribute... they all want your money, your energy, your investment.  Why would anyone see a tract differently?  Wow, that was quite a rant, but really, tracts are ineffective. 
• Once we were in our little hotel room, my dad said "Wow, I know we don't have any, but I would really love an apple."  Mom said, "H___, I told you that I was bringing some!" and my dad said (haha- he's unconventional in this way- he says this all the time, over everything!) "Praise the Lord!"  He wasn't joking, but my mom and I laughed.  It's not like most Christians go around outwardly praising the Lord over every little thing, but I thought the idea of thanking God for things that us humans actually do for ourselves is very common.  Couldn't he just have said, "Thank you, wifey, for thinking of me and my culinary needs?" 
• At dinner the evening before the wedding, out with family, I ended up at the kids' table :)  Kids being anyone 18-25.  I sat across from a cousin I'd never met (I have a big family!), but who knew about me because of letters I had sent out years ago informing family that I was going on mission trips, and then the post-trip follow up letters.  She is a senior in high school, and clearly a good, kind girl with a sincere desire to get out of her comfort zone and shed some love and light on the world.  She asked me about my experiences overseas, how she could go on an independent mission trip, and what sorts of things to expect.  As I carried on with this conversation, realizing that she is a committed Christian, I realized that I had to give her advice on going on these trips the way a Christian would.  Basically, I donned my old beliefs to get through this talk.  I said things like "I would encourage you to think about YWAM.  You'll encounter a different kind of Christianity than you're used to, but it will force you to reevaluate the way you think about God, and how you see the global church."   She talked to me about how she didn't like going to Young Life because the leaders don't really live the way Christians should.  I nodded sympathetically and even found myself saying something like "It's hard when you can't find a group of encouraging people who can build your faith,"  I know- super hypocritical.  But what use would it have been to change the girl's perception of me?  I just played the part, something I've been doing around basically anyone who doesn't know yet.
• Not knowing if I should do a Sign of the Cross during the wedding ceremony (it was done many times by most of the people there, at the end of prayers).  Once, I did it, to try and blend in, but it was a flimsy SOTC, reminding me of bad dancers who just don't move sharply enough.
• During the ceremony, the quirky priest (who had to have been in his 80's) did something I had never seen before.  He took the rings, held them up, and prayed a blessing over them, basically praying magical committal power into them.  He then walked to the front row where the parents and grandparents were standing and asked them to each touch the rings and bless them with him.  It was weird.  Made me think of how superstitious religion can be, or how religion can be altered and made more superstitious than it already is.  When I brought this up later with my parents, kind of saying "What was that?" my Dad (who was raised Catholic) tried to defend it, saying I was being too critical.  I argued back, "Where in the Bible or in any other wedding have you seen blessing inanimate objects encouraged?  Praying a blessing for the couple, yes, but asking for magic to be packed into rings that the couple wears- what??"  He continued to tell me that I should respect the priest's decisions and not question things too much... he has no idea.
• We only had Saturday evening, all of Sunday, and Monday morning in California, so I wanted to make every minute count.  The wedding lasted until about 4.  After that, most of my family was driving back to their homes in Northern California.  I wanted to do something fun in LA!  Before the wedding, I looked online at different options: maybe go wine tasting, see Hollywood, downtown LA?  My dad, who really values rest, had no interest in any of it.  As I was looking into different options, he encouraged me to not try and pack too much into one day.  We mildly argued about it, then he said, "I'll just pray that you make the right decision."  I said, "Thanks, Dad," annoyedly.  He is so religious.  
• Mornings in the hotel- my parents both did devotions and read their Bibles.  I just showered and got ready, and if I did read, it was the newspaper or a book.  They must have noticed that I didn't sit with my Bible and journal the way they were.  I think they must be onto me, but they haven't said anything.  I've decided to tell them in the next few weeks.
•  On the drive back to the airport from our hotel, my parents start discussing one of my cousins who died at the age of 18 in 2002.  It's definitely a family tragedy that shook everyone up considerably in 2002 and continues to be discussed and grieved over today.  The thing about this kid was that he was 18.  He was outgoing and friendly, but was definitely big into the party scene.  He was raised Catholic and his mom (my aunt and god-mother) is a very believing Catholic, but, like so many teenagers, he rebelled.  He just happened to die in a car accident during his rebelling stage.  So, as shameful a thing as it is to do, the question of where this cousin is in eternity is something that was quietly discussed following his death.  He was baptized as a baby and confirmed into the Catholic church, so some say that's enough.  However, my Protestant relatives have said, "But did he ever really accept Jesus into his heart?"  Somehow, my parents got on the topic today.  I turned up my ipod and thought about how strange it is that when your life ends up coming to a halt could, according to the Bible, affect where you end up for all of eternity.  Say this cousin never did really grip the heaviness of Jesus.  He went along with baptism, confirmation, communion, all of that, but never really thought about it hard enough to accept it.  Or, he did think about it, but was never able to claim it as truth.  That would have been natural for a rebellious, authority-questioning teenager, right?  But what if, 10 years down the road, when he was a family man, raising kids and trying to show them how to live ethically, he reevaluated the faith he was raised on and saw the goodness in it?  What if it wasn't until then that he came back to it, this time really claiming it as his belief system?  Well, he never reached that age.  So, if he was that teenager who never did accept Jesus as his savior, whether his relatives want him to be in Heaven or not (not like ANY of us don't!), he's in Hell, forever.  If only he'd have made it 10 more years.  How is that fair?  And why are my parents talking about something that happened 8 years ago?  He is where he is, and maybe that's just in a coffin.

I think that was everything religious that came up in my mini-vacation.  It was probably because I was around my parents so much more than I usually am, and they are very devout.  But it used to seem normal.  Now, all of the Christian jargon, the "Praise the Lord"s, the praying for small things just feels unnecessary and fake.  I'm glad to be in a doubting place, but it does make things uncomfortable.  Still, it was a very, very fun vacation!  I was just more tuned in to these things than I probably usually would have been.

An Interesting Tutorial

This morning, I headed to my old high school where I now work as an AVID tutor.  If you are interested in cool public education programs, research AVID more.  Basically, it is a class that would be first-generation college students take all 4 years of high school that teaches them how to take notes, stay organized, ask questions to further their learning, and work as a group to arrive at answers together.  Each week, the students have to come to tutorials, armed with two upper-level questions having to do with something they are learning in one of their classes.  The tutors split up these questions (written down on forms called TRFs) by subject, then lead the tutorials that are really supposed to be run by the students working together to arrive at the answers.  It's truly a good program, and I'm glad to be a part of it.

Usually, when we (the tutors) divide the TRFs, I take the math group.  I am licensed to teach middle school math... I wanted to get this religious equation figured out before I began teaching (since it's all consuming, especially in the dreaded first year) and work on some other things, but anyway, I have the background to help students understand math concepts, so I usually volunteer to be in the math group. 

For whatever reason, this morning, I said, "I'll do history!"  There was another math nerd tutor around, so he was glad to get math.

Because most of the students in my group were studying the time just before the Renaissance, religion was a common theme in the questions they asked.  There was the posting of Luther's 95 Thesis, the fighting between Protestants and Catholics, the selling of indulgences...

After getting through a couple of questions relating more to government and philosophy, one girl (side note- this girl has the coolest hand-writing I've ever seen.  It's unreal) stood up, walked to the white board, and wrote her question out of the group to copy: What would it be like if everyone in the world was either Christian [she meant Protestant- we corrected this together] or Catholic?  Which would you be and why?

When I read that last part, I decided it would be best to just dodge that.  We started out with a discussion on the difference in beliefs between Protestants and Catholics.  We got a little side-tracked on the issue of marrying someone of another belief system (I explained the Biblical concept of "equally yoked" and another tutor jumped in and explained how if you wish to be married by a priest, both the husband and the wife need to be confirmed Catholics).  We discussed baptism and salvation.  We then got to imagining what the world would be like if everyone was Christian.

It became apparent to me that in the group of six students, one was Catholic, two were Protestant, one (the presenter) was not religious, and two were pretty quiet about their beliefs.  You could just see these kids having to think twice about why they were labeled the way they were- Catholic, Baptist... what they had to do with coming to those labels.

Interesting questions/ comments brought up during the discussion:
"Do people ever change religions, or get rid of their religions?" 
"What if your dad was a Protestant minister and you really wanted to marry a Catholic.  You'd have to become Catholic, but wouldn't you feel bad?"
"I was baptized as a baby, and I understand that, but it's not like I made that decision myself.  My parents chose my religion for me."
"So, if you don't get baptized, what happens to you?  I mean, where do you go?"
"How do you think poor people who couldn't afford indulgences felt?"

My favorite comment came in written form on the reflection each student has to fill out at the end of the class.  The girl who asked the question (which, of course, wasn't really answered as much as discussed) wrote "I just wonder why religions have to exist at all."  One can view them as absolute truth, another a strange human phenomenon that just divides people.  I sat in a group of 14 year-olds who maybe for the first time, got an idea of what it was like to view them in a different way.  How I love education.

Southern Hills Mennonite Church

Nine days and eleven hours ago, I was getting ready for a church service that I really wasn't feeling like going to.  I could always catch up on my reading instead... Maybe I'll just get dressed and get coffee... My room could use a nice, deep cleaning... Any excuse.  At this point, I've been to seven different churches.  It is starting to get old: entering an unfamiliar place by yourself, trying to figure out what normal looks like then mimic that, feeling guilty because you don't really subscribe to the beliefs everyone in that room probably thinks you subscribe to, well, it's not the easiest thing to do...

Fortunately, nine days and 9 hours ago, I drove home from the Mennonite church, happy as a clam.  I loved it!

How did I get from point A to point B?

Well, first I will expose my ignorance.  I expected the Mennonite church to be pretty reserved and conservative.  A few years ago, some friends and I, just for our sheer amusement, decided to have a "Home School" party.  (We were pretty wild!)  We all dressed up uber-conservatively, acted really awkward, played this game called Generosity (a Christian version of Life), and tried to bring up God as much as we could.  We were definitely making fun of the archetype Home-schooled Christian, but it was okay because 3 out of the 5 of us were home-schooled. 

 

My point is, as I was getting dressed for service, choosing my outfit carefully (trying hard to dress very simply- not easy for me!), I couldn't help but be taken back to that silly party when I wore a very modest ankle-length denim skirt, plain pastel yellow shirt, Birkenstock sandals, and cross necklace.  I wondered if I needed to wear a scarf over my hair, keep jewelry to a minimum, dress like these ladies:

Upon arriving at the church, I found a parking lot full of Obama-stickered Subarus, not horse and buggies.  Sigh of relief! Once I was inside, I was happy to find that the people were dressed pretty regularly.  Not a head-covering in sight!

I made my way into the plain looking chapel (with an impressive set of instruments up front) and plunked down.  The service would be starting in just a minute.  As I noticed a woman who seemed to be noticing me, thinking "How do I know her??" another woman behind me tapped me on the shoulder, asked if I was new, and then introduced herself.  Then, something that I've been hoping wouldn't happen in any of my church visits finally happened.  "Would you mind if we introduced you to the congregation during the service?"   Sure enough, a couple minutes into the service when the minister asked if there were any visitors, this kind lady stood up and introduced me by first and last name :)  I did that awkward quickly stand up and half-heartedly wave thing.  I then saw that woman who I recognized from somewhere whisper to her husband.

Onto the actual service and message- the things that made me glad I came.  Here is what I loved about the Mennonite church I was at: the music, the friendly people, and their affirmation of values I have been emphasizing as a Christian for the last few years (peace, social justice, financial simple living, moderation, separation of church and state, to name a few).  I'll begin with the music.

I am a lover of music.  I've been in choir since 4th grade, but even before that, I sang all the time.  I'm an alto, so because of my time in high school/ college choir, I've gotten used to singing the harmony.  Though I'm no longer in any choir, I'm still very much a harmonizer.  Whether singing in my car or singing in church, it actually takes effort to sing the melody.  At my home church, where we generally have a small band upfront and the lyrics projected onto a screen for all to read (but no actual notes displayed), I, as a harmonizer, am a minority.  I have been sticking to the melodies while visiting various churches, partly because you have to know the song well enough before you can add another dimension to it, and partly because I don't want to stick out anymore than I already am.

This church was different. There were no electric guitars, no loud drums, and no power point lyrics displayed for all to see.  While many churches have modernized their approach to praise and worship, this church has stuck with hymns and acoustic instruments.  From the first note of the first hymn we sang, I realized that these Mennonites knew how to sight read, and they knew whether or not they were alto or soprano; tenor or bass, then stuck to those parts like there was a Bible verse commanding them to!  It was musical bliss.  In addition my joy that I could once again be an alto during full-congregation songs, there were a few special musical acts that were enjoyable.  Piano, harmonica, banjo, and cello were some of the instruments that were used throughout the service.   Also, Mennonites clap after someone sings or plays in front of the congregation.  I like that.  (Some churches don't think it's appropriate to clap- praise a person- during a church service, but not clapping, to me, has always feels kind of cold.)

As for the people and the message, I could tell that the people I was sitting amongst wanted to make a difference in not only heaven, but also the world we can currently see.  During prayer requests, one man stood up and announced that he knew of a 17 year-old girl in our community who was homeless.  He said that if anyone would like to consider taking her into their home for a while, they could talk to him after the service.  The fact that he would even feel comfortable presenting a request like that to the congregation, and the fact that he seemed to genuinely feel bad for her and want to help her out (instead of blaming her parents or assuming she has a drug addiction or something like that) blew me away.  They didn't want to blend in with Conservative Christians with their American (ahem, Republican) forms of Christianity, but instead knew that in order for their faith to remain pure, it could not be affected by any nation or modern culture.

They were not willing to kill anyone, period.  That decision could be left up to God.  During a prayer, the minister said, "Help us to be peacemakers planting seeds of peace throughout our lives."  She discussed the number of Afghanis and Iraquis who have been killed since September 11th.  Her sermon was titled "Extravagant Citizenship" and was about really giving yourself to something, no matter what the cost.  It seemed to me that the cause she suggested giving yourself to was more the ideals of peace, justice, and love than God.  The sermon did not really stress maintaining a relationship with Jesus or trying to win people over to God.  I think the assumption was that everyone in that room was a Christian, so why bring up faith?  Instead, they focused on using their Biblical roots to live with peace, love, and mercy on their hearts and in their hands, giving what they could to make this community, this state, this country, and hopefully, this world, better than it was the day before.

"Every person can do what they can to be a good citizen and to make the world a better place."

As the sermon came to a close, I made eye contact with that recognized lady (by this point, I had realized who she was) and we chatted for a bit.  I then saw another person I had once met (we chatted), plus two others I had only met that week!  Four people in one small congregation!  I was impressed by the odds.  It was like something was telling me that I already had a head start at a community there, in case I ever wanted to return to the faith.  As I drove home, I thought, "Wow, it's like I've been Mennonite all this time without even realizing it!" 

Although, looking back on the service, I have to wonder if it felt that good because it seemed more humanist than Christian?  An unbeliever was able to sit in the service and agree with most of the things that were said, so, if I really did decide that Christianity is what I can claim as truth, I'm not sure that I would really go to the Mennonite church.  Wouldn't I want to go to a more Bible-based church?  Maybe alternate between the Mennonite and a more Bible-based church?  Guess I can cross that bridge if I get there, but for now, Mennonite wad enjoyable.

Whoa!

I realized this morning when I accidentally commented on one of my dearest friend's blog how much my secrecy in all of this means to me.  See, I have 3 different google accounts, and I have to remember to be logged in to either of the 2 innocent google accounts (as opposed to this evil google account!) when I comment on her blog (she knows about this blog, but she's the only Christian friend of mine who does).  Well, this morning, I read one of her posts, felt the need to comment, and did so without giving it a thought.  It wasn't until I saw this profile picture pop up next to my comment on her blog that I went "Oooops!"  After a brief moment of panic, I deleted the comment.  It makes sense that that would delete everything about the comment.  However, blogger doesn't seem to want people to get out of these sorts of mishaps because what was left on the post was my name and that picture of me in the red dress and the statement "Comment has been removed by author."  I'm sure that this statement would peak anyone's interest even more than my old, comparatively mundane comment would have, and prompted people to click on my profile and access my blog.

Here's the thing: I'm so not ready for that. 

Although I've told a few good friends who definitely care about me and about making sure I stay on the good Christian track, I don't so much feel the need to tell everybody.  If I were to be completely transparent about this blog, everyone who reads my friend's blog would know: her mother (whom I LOVE- but who also might say something to my parents?), her sisters, our mutual friends who maybe know about my agnosticism but not about this blog...

So I did what any defensive, frightened person would do.  I made my blog private and made my profile un-accessible.  I felt like a complete chicken for doing this, but there are just some people that I'm not ready to be that open with.  So, in case you're currently trying to read my blog and think that I made it private to be exclusive, puh-lease.  I'll probably make it public again in about a week.

I am so not a secrets person.  This sucks in a huge way.

Edit: Okay, my friend with the blog helped me see that I don't need to make my profile inaccessible AND invite only.  Yay!  So you can now click on my url and visit.  I really do feel the need for community, and as lame as it may sound, this little corner of the world wide web is hugely helpful in allowing me to voice my thoughts without fear of rejection, and not feel so alone in these thoughts.

Coming Out

When I decided that I wanted to commit a solid amount of time to studying religion from an outsider's point of view (because you can't really look at the components of different beliefs if you feel the need to make the truth be your truth), I didn't think I needed to tell many people. Why bother them with my beliefs, especially while I'm in an intentional questioning stage? I haven't even landed on anything yet.

But, when you go from helping in Sunday School classes, hosting weekly Bible studies, and being the token good church girl at work to no longer believing in anything, people notice.

It seems like I've been having to explain to people a lot lately where I'm at, and I'm finding their reactions to be diverse and sometimes surprising.

(Whoa- just realized that today is National Coming out Day! I titled the post before I realized this, I swear!)

There's J__, someone I work with who has always jokingly picked on me for being a Christian (he's atheist). In the past, I've taken his comments like a champ, knowing (or hoping) that what I knew he would one day find true and not putting forth much effort to fight back. When he did it a week ago, I couldn't take it and said, "Actually, that no longer applies. I'm kind of going through an agnostic phase." (I think adding the word phase makes it sound less definitive, but it also makes it sound like I'm going to bounce out of it any day now). He looked at me skeptically and that was the end of that. A few days later, he asked me how long I thought I'd be agnostic and I told him as long as it took to figure something out, and that if I didn't think there was enough out there to figure anything out, then it would be a long term thing.

There's S___, my missionary friend. She obviously took what I had to say very seriously. She was surprised, but said without hesitation and with utmost belief, she said she knew that if I kept at the search and didn't do it "halfway," I'd end up back at Jesus. I've always craved that kind of faith. But she's right. A Bible verse that in many ways affirms what I'm doing is Jeremiah 29:13-14:
¹³ You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. ¹⁴ I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile."
If God is true and I really have an open mind, he will not melt under the flame of scrutiny. He will get me out of the exile of doubt and bring me back to him, if he's not made up, if he's actually the Christian God, if he's really the way the Bible says he is.

There's P___, someone else I work with. He says he is spiritual, but not at all religious. When I told him, he said, "Well to be honest I was kind of worried about you. I mean, you're young and hot and you need to live life up!" Ha. Not planning on doing anything terribly pagan quite yet (haha- "yet"), no need to worry. But P___ definitely has a point. If what I've been carrying my cross for for years isn't worth all of this work (if it's not real), then I don't want to waste another minute of my life on it. Life is too short to give yourself to an imaginary cause.

There's J___, someone I used to work with. She believes in a God, but has beef with organized religion (if you're reading, please correct me on any of this). I sent her a link to this blog after going to a church she had a bit of a history with. I met with her yesterday and she said reading this made her sad for me. I think she meant that anytime someone loses their religion, they are kissing a huge part of themselves and their past away. It means reevaluating your politics, your morals (which things stay and which things go?), your reasoning skills, and what others tell you. Hopefully, the things I will let go of in this process (be it faith or doubt) will make my spirit lighter and more free, more sure of what I really believe to be true.

There's J___ (wow, there are a lot of people out there with names that start with J!), a 60-something year old cook at the restaurant I work at with whom I have the funniest, faux-parental relationship. I did not want to tell him! He thinks the world of me and sees no wrong. But someone I work with jokingly said, "You've renounced Jesus [obviously I never put it that way and don't see it that way!] and you're still doing fine? Shouldn't you be struck down by lightening or something?" and J___ overheard. He said, "Wait a minute, what's he talking about?" Then, after a deep sigh and a nervous smile, I told J___ what was going on. He looked worried and just encouraged me to stay true to myself and my ethics.

There's T___, the gay Jew I work with. (Have you gathered that I work with some pretty interesting people?) He's the one who made the lightening joke and outted me in front of my work dad. Over drinks, he told me that this was really surprising him and that it was hard for him to see me as anyone but a very Christian girl. No longer fitting in the box I've made for myself is kind of strange.

What I love the most about being vocal with where I'm at is the spirituality stories that follow. The unlabeled testimonies. Suddenly, they're voicing what they believe and why- telling stories of middle school crises of faith, reliving conversations with clergy, and spreading their gospel. I no longer listen strategically, thinking of ways to combat their qualms with religion or feeling sad when I hear that they've rejected all dogma. I can now just listen and respect what they've come to, especially when it's thought out, when you know they had to wrestle a little to get there. When all of this research and thinking is said and done ("done!" Never will I think ever again...), I think I'll have a pretty good testimony myself.

Bitty update

Saturday afternoon, I agreed to work the Sunday brunch shift for one of my coworkers who really needed off, so I didn't make it to the Four Square church. I've decided to trade Church of the Nazarene (10/31) for Four Square. Speaking in tongues can be kind of scary, and it will be on Halloween, so, nice. Next week, Mennonite :)

Recurring Themes

Yesterday, my day went like this:

Breakfast of coffee, peanut butter toast (topped with honey, of course!), and 3 reasons/chapters ("Believing in my god makes me happy," "Better safe than sorry," and "A sacred book proves my god is real.") in Guy P. Harrison's 50 reasons people give for believing in a god. All of that reading made my breakfast longer than usual, so I decided to move past religion/nonreligion for the day and get some business taken care of!

Easier said than done.

While listening to the new Guster cd, Easy Wonderful, I realized that SIX of the sixteen songs (on the deluxe version) have religious themes. It's crazy. I've been a Guster fan for years now (saw them live in Portland, ME last summer) and there are usually 2-3 songs on each album that have something to do with religion. But six ("On the Ocean," "Stay with Me Jesus," "Bad, Bad World," "That's No Way to Get to Heaven," "Jesus and Mary," and "Jonah")?

The song that I'm right now most in love with is "On the Ocean." Not only is it deliciously poppy and harmonious, I also find it full of striking parallels to what I'm figuring out right now.

Am I asleep? Is this a dream? Oh my God, what have I done, anything?
At 23, you walked out on me. Oh my God, where have you gone, anyway?
On the ocean, I think we're taking on water. A storm is on the way. But I will hold on anyway. (Chorus) [Keeping the faith in spite of rising doubts]
10,000 leagues under the sea. Oh my God, what have you done, anything? [Sinking deeper. Continued denial that the boat of faith is flawed]
29 years I've wandered around. There's no beauty here, no emerald town. I shout aloud, "What will be forgotten, everything?" [Disillusionment with the church and the religion as a whole?]
(Chorus....)
I close my eyes and there's someone beside me. Hand in hand, we can only speak in tongues. She's pulling me along.
Falling down a trail of crumbs behind me, my head's in her hands, but everything, it still feels wrong. This isn't what I thought, so can I just go home? ["Close my eyes"- praying with someone. But he doesn't feel it. He can't believe it and just wants to renounce it.]
(Chorus)
Am I asleep? Is this a dream? Oh my God, what have I done, anything?

Other than the surprise attack of thoughts on religion by Guster, I was also assailed by Glee last night!

Who else watched that episode? No matter where you stand, can you not admit that that episode (titled: Grilled Cheesus [!]) was awesome?!?

Basically, the episode begins with Finn opening his George Foreman griller only to be amazed by the image of Jesus on his grilled cheese. He then eats half of the sandwich, and saves the sacred half, praying to it throughout the episode (the things he prays for are so funny, but telling of what an average high schooler like Finn would want: a football win, a chance at fondling his girlfriend, and his old quarterback position back). Throughout the course of the episode, Kurt, the witty, stylish gay glee club member, learns that his dad has had a heart attack and is in a coma. Other glee club members try to comfort him with messages of spirituality, but he won't have it. He's an atheist. Teachers get involved, blaming Will Schuster, the glee director for allowing religious dialogue and songs in his classroom. Friends pray over Kurt's dad. Kurt goes to church with his Christian friend, Mercedes, who was the example of what a loving, comforting, open Christian looks like. By the way, if anyone knows of a church that will sing a gospel rendition of "Bridge Over Troubled Water," let me know and I'll tack it to the ICHE!


It really was a very well done episode, tying humor, music, drama, and religion (it was very fair- I read an article where Ryan Murphy said that he made sure that in the script for this episode, for each anti-religious statement there was one pro-religious statement made) very successfully. I think it made every viewer think about where they stood and why, which is always a good thing.

I have to share some of the quotes from the episode. If you haven't already stopped reading to watch it on hulu, please do!

"Asking someone to believe in a fantasy, however comforting, isn't a moral thing to do. It's cruel."- Sue Sylvester, in a scene where she opened up to the school counselor, Emma, about why she is against religion. I read that Murphy considers this philosophical scene to be one of the best he's ever made.

"It was sort of cool, feeling like I had this direct line to God. Now I just feel like everybody else, you know, like we're all just floating around in Space. I don't like that." - Finn, after realizing his Cheesus was nothing more than a Foreman fluke. It resonates with me because I've felt like that when I've consider loosing the power of prayer, and the relationship with Jesus. That feeling of being special and having a unique connection to God keeps a lot of people claiming his name.


"I'm very impressed with everyone's Sunday best. It's very Christ chic."- :) Kurt, as he was entering Mercedes' church

Glee did, in my opinion, a good job presenting the atheists (Kurt and Sue), the agnostic (Emma?), the Jews (Rachel and Puck), the Christians (Mercedes and Quinn), and those who just didn't know or maybe didn't care, but wanted to help out in some way (Will, Finn). It was definitely an episode to talk about.

Later, I checked out websites like:
http://debunkingchristianity.blogspot.com/
http://de-conversion.com/
and happened upon some other religious blogs.

So there you have it, a day that was anything but religion free. But that's okay. I'm finding I can't get enough of thoughts on religion lately...

1st Lutheran Pastor's Response!

I really appreciate the pastor at the Lutheran church for getting back to me so quickly and with such a thoughtful response. Again, the questions I'm asking the leaders of these churches when I email them are 1. about how they came to believe in God and why they keep believing in him daily and 2. about why they lead and worship in that particular church/ denomination. In my email to this pastor, I also told him that I enjoyed a part of the sermon in which he described the process of going out to eat. He even made a quick comment on tipping, saying "at least I hope you leave at least a 15 or 20% tip." Christians are notorious for bad tipping in the restaurant business! (Oh, I work as a part time server)

So, here it is:

"I'm glad that you emailed me, and that you found your worship time with us to be meaningful. I guess it was just fortuitous (or perhaps Spirit led) that some of the sermon resonated with you, especially the server part. As someone who has bused tables, washed dishes, and even cooked food (Colonel Sanders friend chicken in high school), I have a special fondness for those who work in food preparation and distribution.

I was blessed to be raised in a Lutheran/Christian home by a father who was very faithful and dedicated to Christ and the church, and a mother whose faith was not quite as strong. I enjoyed attending church services and found a home in our youth group. Early on (7th grade), I started to think about becoming a minster, and my parents and home pastor encouraged me in that direction. By the time I was in high school, I was taking language classes which would help me as I started college prep for the ordained ministry. Four years of college and four more years of seminary led to my ordination at Immanuel Lutheran Church in L____ in 1974.

Like many Christians, I have had my share of "ups and downs" in faith throughout the years. The deaths of my parents threw me for a loop, but also made me hang on more tightly to the resurrection promises of Jesus. My faith was challenged, but also comforted, by a stronger commitment to proclaim the resurrection. That's why I always end the communion meal with a blessing which speaks about the new life or resurrected life which is ours through our faith in Christ. I have had health issues to deal with for many decades. The past two years, my wife, K___, (First's Director of Education and Youth) has gone through cancer treatments and a stem cell transplant for non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Events like these have made me rely more and more on the grace of God to help me through troubled times and trials, remembering, as Jesus' promised, that he would always be with me, whatever it is I am going through.

What I value about my Lutheran/Christian faith and identity is its emphasis on the Word of God, the Scriptures, as a wonderful (though sometimes perplexing) expression of God's love and forgiveness for me. Lutherans emphasize God's grace (as I described it last night in our new member class - G.R.A.C.E. God's Riches At Christ's Expense). God's overwhelming love showered upon me, when I don't deserve it. God granting me the gift of eternity, not because of anything I have accomplished, but because of what Jesus has accomplished for me. Lutherans emphasize faith in Christ Jesus, and I deeply appreciate that.

I also appreciate the Lutheran approach to worship, with its structured liturgy which emphasizes the preaching of the Word and the sharing of the Meal (communion). And, of course, I love the music of the hymns we sing. Martin Luther said that singing hymns was like praying, and I agree. I enjoy the rich hymnody we have, because the music and the words of hymns and songs elicit strong feelings within me which nourish my faith -- challenging me where I need to change or improve, comforting me where I need to be encouraged, and commissioning me to share my faith with others.

I could probably say a lot more, but this may be more than you really wanted!! Anyway, I do hope to see you again in worship here. I will pray that God leads you to a congregation where you can grow in your faith and where you can serve Christ and his people with the gifts and talents God has given you.

Peace and love in Christ,

Pastor L___

PS Two weeks ago (September 26), instead of preaching a sermon I shared with the congregation something called "Narrative Communion Liturgy" which explained Lutheran worship. If you would like to have a copy of that to read (it's about 7 type written pages), just email me your address and I will mail you a copy to peruse."

*****

With all due respect to a man that I believe really is very Biblical and kind, what do you think of his story? I have to admire his faith and commitment to God, throughout his ups and downs, as he said. But does it point to the existence of a God or more to a faithful man who has found comfort in belief? Let's dialogue here.

David Bazan's "Bearing Witness"

Today, I had to drive quite a bit, just throughout town, from place to place. David Bazan's solo album, which debuted about a year ago, but only became a part of my itunes library months ago, felt like the right thing to listen to. David used to be the lead singer and song-writer of Pedro the Lion, a Seattle-based Christian rock group. But in 2004, he had a crisis of faith, and through the painful process of sifting the truth from the stories, he has now reached the conclusion that everything he had believed so strongly for his 30 something years was a lie. In his album, Curse Your Branches, themes of doubt, disillusionment, deconversion, pain, alcoholism that went with this process, disappointment, and renewal are prevalent. I found the song "Bearing Witness" particularly poignant today when I was driving through my city's downtown.

I clung to miracles I have not seen
From ancient signatures I cannot read
Though I've repented I'm still tempted I admit
But it's not what bearing witness is

To full of fear and prophecy to see
The revelation right in front of me
So sick and tired of trying to make the pieces fit
cause it's not what bearing witness is

When the gap between
what I hoped would be
and what is makes me weep for my kids
I take a cleansing breath
and make a positive confession
But is that what bearing witness is?

Though it may alienate your family
and blur the lines of your identity
Let go of what you know
and honor what exists
Son, that's what bearing witness is
Daughter, that's what bearing witness is

Hear him sing it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qVXev6It94


Whether or not you think that David came to the right conclusion on Christianity and God, you have to admit that his honesty is extremely admirable. To move from belief to disillusionment, and reexamine everything is not for the faint hearted. I am encouraged by him.

1st Lutheran

Well, yesterday I was scheduled to go to a Methodist church, but as my dear old Gramma says, all plans are subject to change. Due to running late, I went to a closer church, 1st Lutheran. In a few weeks, I'm scheduled to go there, so I'll go to the Methodist church instead :)

Having a background in (well, a number of denominations, but mostly) Evangelical Christianity, I am not well-practiced in liturgical services. One thing that stood out to me about this ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) church was the structure. It was apparent that the way I was being led in worship yesterday is the way the congregation is led each Sunday. I find value in that. There's the danger that the rituals and the shared prayers will lose their meaning (you're just trying to focus on reading what you need to read, not actually thinking about it), but I think bringing the worship and the message out of the pulpit and more into the hands of the congregation is good.

Actually, I was happy to find that there was a paper in the lobby on the liturgy at 1st Lutheran! An exerpt:

"First, a word about the word 'liturgy.' 'Liturgy' is from the ancient Greek leitourgia and means 'public work' or 'the work of the people.' When the people of God gather on Sunday mornings, we gather to do 'the work of the people,' the liturgy."

You know, I graduated in May. A year ago, I had it firmly set in my mind that after graduating, I wanted to commit two years of my life toward an organization called Jesuit Volunteer Corps. JVC has four core beliefs: community (you share a living space with other volunteers, and hopefully, a friendship), spirituality (it's a Catholic organization, so church, Bible studies, and prayer are ways JVC encourages tending to its volunteers' spiritual needs), social justice (yay!), and simple living (you don't make much money at all for your services, but instead of that fact being viewed as a bad thing, JVCers see it as helping them become closer in understanding to the poor they are serving). It didn't work out (and good thing! For several reasons), but the process of applying was tedious. I wrote about 20 typed pages in answers to several questions applicants needed to address. One of those prompts said "Describe your communal prayer practices." Here's my answer (from a year ago):

[My home church] is a great church, however, like any one church, some points are hit hard on while others are missed. The idea that each of us is to have a personal relationship with Christ is preached just about every Sunday in some way or another. The idea that the church should have a communal relationship with Christ is not. Often one of the pastors will lead the congregation in prayer, but public prayers in which all the church-goers recite a prayer simultaneously rarely, if ever, are part of a church service. Whenever I’ve been to a different church that is more liturgical and have been a part of a public prayer, I have enjoyed the thought that for at least that moment, everyone in the room is united in their prayer to God, assuming that people are not just mindlessly saying the words. I have been involved in a prayer team for my missionary friend. The people in this group get together after church on the third Sunday of each month, bring a different dish, dine and converse, then get to business by sharing things that [my missionary friend] needs prayer for. Finally, with prayer requests noted, we all bow our heads and pray one person at a time. This time of group prayer is good because I get the chance to hear the ways that others converse with the Lord, join in a prayer that seems to have more weight than one that I might pray individually and silently, and know that even if my mind drifts, the prayer is being carried on, which is not the case when I’m praying on my own. I am hesitant to say that I feel God’s presence or the Holy Spirit moving within, just because I’m not completely sure, however, when I do pray in group settings, I often feel some force from God that touches me and reminds me of His attentiveness to our prayers and His power in answering them somehow. I definitely want to pray communally more.

Since JVC is a Catholic organization, I think I felt the need to praise communal worship practices highly, but what I wrote was sincere. Maybe I'll share more of my 20 page, deeply personal and spiritual application later in the blog. It's funny having reminders like that of how firmly I believed, or tried to believe.

Back to 1st Lutheran: the liturgy paper broke down the basics of any service at that church. If anyone has been to a different Lutheran church, perhaps you can chime in about whether this rings a bell. This church says the four actions that make every Sunday truly worshipful are the: gathering, word, meal, and sending.

Gathering- everyone comes to church. Confession and forgiveness, gathering song, greeting, Hymn of Praise, Prayer of the Day. Word- this part of the sermon is not just the reading of one passage, but rather 3: one Old Testament passage, one New Testament passage, and one Gospel passage. The congregation just stands when the 3rd passage is read, because the gospel has words spoken by Jesus, so it is considered more sacred. After each scripture reading, the readers says: "This is the word of God," and the congregation says, "Thanks be to God." Then the sermon, the Hymn of the Day, recitation of The Apostles Creed, the prayers of intercession (unique to individuals in the congregation's prayer needs)- again, there is a reading in the bulletin and the individuals in the pews are active in reading the prayer out loud... one person's not doing all the work while others sit silently, then the Meal. This involves taking an offering, then someone making a musical offering to prepare the hearts of the church-goers for communion (ahem, "the Eucharist"). I like what this liturgy paper says about these monetary and musical offerings that precede the Eucharist: "Our main offering, however, is really the offering of ourselves, as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, as St. Paul encourages us in Romans." Then, a congressional singing of Great Thanksgiving which ends with the famous Holy, Holy, Holy. Finally, Words of Institution, The Lord's Prayer, and the taking of the Eucharist. Then, a communion song, a post communion blessing and prayer. Then, the Sending, complete with a blessing, sending song, and dismissal "Go in peace- Thanks be to God."

So there you have it. Similar to Catholocism in the rigid structuring of the service and in the valuing of liturgy and the Eucharist, but definitely Protestant (Luther!!) Although there were a fair amount of people there, the reverend noticed me and greeted me personally. I've sent him an email. Hopefully he gets back to me.