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.