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.

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!

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?

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.

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...

I hate feeling this alone.

For the past 8 years, I've lived in the same town, gone to the same church, developed relationships with people who were like-minded and God-centered. My church was everything a Bible-believing Christian could want. My friends were (and are) wonderful people with whom I felt so comfortable expressing my honest thoughts, having a good laugh, and delving deeper into the Bible. I worked and went to school with non-Christians who became acquaintances, but never really friends. I didn't think it was possible to reach the deep level of friendship with non-Christians that I could with Christians, because if someone did not believe what I believed was the most important thing in life, if we couldn't share that belief in Jesus, they would never be able to understand me truly and encourage my spirit the way one of my Christian friends could. Jesus was so important to me that if I didn't have him in common with another, I really wouldn't be able to share a deep friendship with him/her.

Suddenly, I'm not sure about Jesus. And now, all those friends with whom I had so much in common, they feel far away. My best friends, the ones I've cultivated over my time here, they believe with everything inside of them that the Bible is true, that God hears their prayers, that people who don't at one point ask Jesus into their hearts will go to hell. I love them for their faith. They are the kinds of people who really, seriously believe in what they profess to believe, and they live their lives each day in an attempt to bring glory to God and lead people to him. I really love them.

It's just that I've had to keep this from them because of how firmly they believe. I knew that once the news that I, one of the former firm believers (yes, doubt is not new to me, but overall, I have been a very committed Christian and have genuinely believed in the divinity of Jesus, and I have felt certain that I was in a loving relationship with him) was going through a time of honest and real unbelief surfaced, my closest friends would be extremely concerned. I hate disappointing people. I kind of hoped that I could skate by for a while by just having fun with them, talking about how things are going, having the sort of friendship non-Christians have, ones that are real and loving, just without the Jesus talk. But my avoidance of Bible studies and my aversion to conversation having to do with quiet times, the Bible, God, or spiritual growth caused my good friends to wonder what was going on. Of course. I realized that I needed to be honest, even if it meant that things wouldn't be the same and that I would make them sad.

In the past week, I've told two good Christian friends of mine. Now, to say that I've dated a little would be an over-statement, but I do have some experience in that realm. Each time I've mustered up the strength to tell a friend about my religious status, I've been reminded of what it felt like to break up with someone. That hollow feeling in your stomach. The determination to just do it even though you'd rather just fast forward and have it done for you somehow. The knowledge that you need to be honest, but the immense fear and guilt you feel over hurting someone. Unlike breaking up, the people I'm bearing the "bad" news to in these cases don't feel rejected. They can't take what I'm telling them personally. But, they would tell you that what I'm expressing to them is bigger than ending any human relationship, and therefore, the weightiness of my confession hits them, perhaps staggers them. They probably take what I'm saying in with disappointment in me, pity for me, and anxiety over whether or not I'll come to the "right" conclusion in the end. Being the person to inflict all of those feelings onto someone is awful.

I'm just afraid that without the Bible studies, the hugs at church, and the spiritual openness, these close friendships will fall apart. I don't want to be viewed as someone to be saved. I just want to be loved and accepted, encouraged to embrace this new passion for religious understanding. I know that if friends react with worry, it just means that they: a. believe firmly in what the Bible teaches and b. love me and want what's best for me, which is, in their eyes, to be in an every-changing relationship with Jesus. Even if I decide that that's not what's best for me, I can appreciate that their believing it is, just means they really love me.

I don't know where this post is going. I guess I want to know who my new good friends will be if my old good friends fizzle out. I'm not about to change my course because of loneliness; I need to do this for myself. But I'm going to need some community. Hopefully, it will be a diverse body of friends, some old gems and some new ones. Please, just love me for what I am, not for what you hope I'll be. That's all.

Unitarian Universalist- Part 1

This Sunday, I went to a UU church in my community with a couple of friends of mine. One attends semi-regularly, but the other had not been since she was about ten, when she came for some community theater camp housed at the church. As we walked into the sanctuary, she looked up at the wooden beams over our heads and said to me, "When I was little, those seemed to be at least ten feet high! They were huge! Now, they seem pretty normal." I agreed with what she was getting at and said something like "It's weird going back to a place we haven't been since we were small. Our perspective is so much different that what we see hardly seems to match our memories."

That is exactly how I felt on Sunday.

See, technically, this was my second visit to a UU church. I went to one nine years ago when I was spending the summer in Maine with some of my favorite relatives, who have never fit my definition of Christian, though they are wonderful people. Just like my friend, I had memories of the UU church. Just like her, I've changed. The church, maybe not so much, but my perpective, absolutely.

I'm going to invite you in to my fourteen year old self's perspective... via a journal entry of this visit. Don't judge me. I'll return tomorrow with an entry from my present self about yesterday's visit. I will say that the view has changed considerably.

"Then, at 6:00, we piled in the truck and headed for night church!
*
WAIT!
*
Ok, when Gma, Aunt B___, and I found out about the M____s going 2 church [It's killing me to type this the way I wrote it- abbreviations, spelling errors, and all!], we were So happy! But, keep listening...
*
On the way to 'church,' Ba___ looked @ me and asked, 'Now Tricia [that's my name], have you ever been to a UU church?'
'No.'
'OK, well it's a Unitarian Univeral Church. We used to meet in the Belfast library, but we now meet in a new building.'
'Ok...'
'Tonight, the subject is art. It's only a half hour long and then there's a potluck.'

So, I figured that's cool. A nice summer service, right?

Well, we got there and there's like 18 people (max) sitting in a church (with reg. chairs) listening to 'What a Wonderful World!' That wasn't bad. Then this short haired lady started talking about different forms of art. She talked about how God worked through her and made her draw/paint what she drawed/painted [did I seriously just use the 'word' drawed?!?!!]. I know it doesn't sound that wierd but it was almost like one of those poetry reading things! They didn't say any scriptures or even use the bible or talk about Jesus! And when they sang songs, nobody played the piano, just a lady playing a RECORDER! Not flute, recorder! [Okay, that is lame...] I felt bad the whole time because I was really hoping they would draw near to God! I'll try 2 help them with that! Oh, and @ the potluck, there was NO meat! They had marinated tofu, salad, pasta, rice, but NO MEAT. They all looked kinda funny (I know that's judgmental), but they looked like the meditating, artist, vegetarian type! I TOTALLY didn't see how 2 Lawyers and their kids [my relatives I went with] fit in!"

That's me almost ten years ago. Tune in next time to hear my thoughts now.

ps. Today, I was working in a school and saw a 4th grader whip out a journal. I asked her about it and encouraged her to continue to write in it often. I said, "you'll really love reading it when you're older." I had this entry in mind...

Prayer

As nice as it is to not feel like I need to pray every spare moment, a cross I have carried for the past few years, I have realized that I kind of miss prayer. I think it's a very natural thing to want somebody to talk to. We all have quiet moments where we feel the need to thank somebody, and frantic moments when we need to ask for help.

Today, I enjoyed my lunch break outside at a local park. I sat on the empty bleachers overlooking a baseball field where nothing was happening but mowing. It was gorgeous outside and I stretched my bare shins onto the seats in front of me, hoping they would get some end of the summer sun. As I ate my peanut butter and jelly in peace, I wanted to thank somebody for that moment.

Instead of directing my gratefulness toward a certain divinity, I just looked at what I had to be thankful for and sighed with contentment. It may not feel as certain as addressing the Thank-You note to God and IMing it felt, but it doesn't make what I am happy for any less good. I think acknowledging your feelings, whether joyful and wanting to praise or fearful and looking for aid, is a big part of what makes prayer "work"- or what makes us feel better after we pray. Reflecting, meditating, focusing on the positive- haven't self-help books been praising these practices for years?

And I, a certain Christian, scoffed at those words and took comfort in the fact that my prayers weren't just staying inside my mind, but were actually being heard... now, not so sure.

What if...

As skeptical as I may sound sometimes in these post, I haven't made up my mind at all about where I stand. Today at work, I was mentally drifting off to the land of "What if" and I came to this question: If I found out that Christianity was bogus, how would I spend my Sunday mornings?

Well one thing that anyone is able to benefit from in church is the sense of community. I love the group of friends I have at my church. I would definitely miss them. But that community of like-minded people could be gained elsewhere... Another thing that's great about church is the fact that you choose to go there (well, unless you're under the age of 18 and your parents make you) because you are interested in religion. So a church alternative could be something I chose based off of an interest in it. That sentence was awkward, but I'm tired. Lastly, church, to me, felt life-giving. I was participating in something that made me happy. A church alternative should be something that's not just level one fun, but level ten. You know? Something that gives me joy, maybe helps me connect with nature. Oh dear, maybe I'll become Wiccan ;)

Ideas that incorporate community, interests, and likability:

• Sunday morning book club
• Sunday morning bike trips
• Coffee shop chat time with friends (it'd have to be other churchless friends)
• Brunch club (I think I keep calling these groups clubs because that makes it sound like it will be a regular thing and that there will be others involved.)
• Spanish club :)

It will be a while before I partake (if I partake!) in any of those activities because first I need to figure out what makes the most sense. I would also need to gain the guts to tell my parents (did I mention I live at home with two very Christian parents who've always seen me as very true to the Faith?) why I wasn't getting prettied up each Sunday morning. And friends... The idea scares me. But if it comes to that, I guess I have some comfort in the thought of discussing Beatrice and Virgil over a cup of joe instead of going along with something I don't really believe like some phony.

Other Sunday morning suggestions?

Antioch Missionary Baptist Church

Whoa! A little late on the posting... my best friend got married this week, so there's my excuse.

Last Sunday was a blast! Before the service when I was getting ready, I was getting a little nervous. You see, Antioch is a black church. Of course, it's not like the bulletin or the website says anything to indicate that, and obviously anyone who wants to come can come, but Antioch is one of the many, many churches that reflect the nature of Sunday morning segregation, just not from a side I'm not as used to...

In spite of my nerves, I drove my white self wearing my white dress in my little white car (haha- unintentional) to the north-eastern lower income neighborhood in my city that houses Antioch. From the minute I walked in, I was heartily greeted by several people. A woman who worked for the church set me up with a bag of church goodies and had my filling out a card (which I don't like to do, but she really didn't give me a choice!) and asked about me. She was very friendly.

Oh man! At the beginning of the service, the pastor welcomed visitors and asked us all to stand up. I thought "Oh noooo! Really? Really?" and reluctantly stood, but was so happily surprised by what came next. Suddenly, after a piano's 5 note cue, the entire congregation burst out in a gospel-style welcome song. It was perfect. There was so much rhythm in that song that I felt like dancing, but I thought that would make me feel even more white.

Last summer, I worked at a Children's Defense Fund Freedom School , which is pretty Afro-Centric. At the national training all the employees went to before the freedom school began, I was one of about 40 white people in a group of 2,000 trainees. Being a minority is not new to me. Anyway, I worked with a lot of adults and children who attended Antioch, so I expected to see some at the service. I did recognize a few, but not as many as I hoped I would see.

A little bit more about working with black Christians at Freedom School... I observed that the black church (as a generalization) puts more of an emphasis on social justice, poverty alleviation, universal health care than individual purity and piety. It seemed to me that my church focused more on saving people's souls than their earthly selves, while the black churches focused more on the opposite (but still both). Ooooh Wikipedia confirms: "When compared to American churches as a whole, black churches tend to focus more on social issues such as poverty, gang violence, drug use, prison ministries and racism. A study found that black Christians were more likely to have heard about health care reform from their pastors than were white Christians." I didn't hear much about needing to have quiet times daily or maintain a personal relationship with Jesus, but I had no doubt that my coworkers believed in God. They sprinkled his name in conversation unashamedly, but sometimes their lives didn't reflect what I had been taught about good Christians. Like I said, that is just my experience with black Christians and of course every individual is different. There are so many things both groups need to learn from each other. By the way, I love people of every ethnicity! Hope you can tell. Geez, why does discussing race make people so nervous?

Onto the service... praise and worship + greetings + communion= an hour! I'm used to an hour and 15 minute long church services, so I got a little worried when I realized an hour had gone by and we hadn't even started the sermon. But, I'm happy to say, the singing was super fun! Very stereotypical black church- choir dressed in nice black and white clothes (in fact, let me take this opportunity to say that, yes, everyone was dressed up- moreso than in other churches I've been to! I did see a few great hats!), amazing 6 part harmonies, clapping, swaying, lots of hallelujahs and amens. I would return to this church for the singing and the people.

The taking of the offering was, uh, different. First of all, I was handed collection envelopes before the service by two different people (I don't like the idea of visitors having to tithe... ). Secondly, there were really overt things about giving stated before the offering was taken, such as "I don't know why we think it's okay to put so much money into our flat screens and cars, but not give to church" and the choir singing a spirited song called "Blessings Running Over" containing the lyric: If you give to the Lord, He will give you more. Now I've seen this pastor outside of church. He drives a NICE,new car. He wears plenty of bling. Nice clothes. The way he pushes giving, I just don't know where his motives lie.

Once it was time for the offering to be collected, ushers didn't come to us; we came to them! When suit-laden ushers stood by a row, the people in that row had to procession on out of their pew and up to the front of the church where the offerings were being collected. I couldn't believe how much pressure this put on members (and visitors!) to give!! Everyone watching. Everyone having to go up to that collection plate. Wow! When it came my row's turn to give, I had no choice but to quickly grab one of my empty envelopes, walk to the front, shake 5 guys' hands (I forgot to mention that part), then put my $0 contribution in the plate. I didn't feel good about the sneakiness, but I was not about to go up there empty-handed.

Communion was also noteworthy, just because of the fact that these crazy all-in-one communion cups were used. The top layer of pink celophaney paper read: And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me." - Luke 22:19. Once you peeled that off, there was a thin wafer. Under the wafer, another piece of wrap paper, then the grape juice. Though these fun-size eucharist samplers seemed blatantly cheesy to me, the pastor took them very seriously; blessing them before they were passed out behind the cover of a held-up white sheet. I think a Catholic would have had a coronary.
The sermon was on Isaiah 53:5, or "the suffering servant" and it was actually given by a guest preacher. "If we're going to be like Him, we must be willing to suffer." "He was bruised for our iniquities. He didn't have non of his own." The material wasn't new, but I did think about the nature of suffering in a Christian perspective- or maybe outside a Christian perspective. I like, right now, not feeling like I need to suffer. I remember reading passages on suffering and feeling guilty for being too liked by my non-Christian friends, guilty for being too wealthy in comparison to people in poorer parts of the world, guilty for not being persecuted. It is comforting to believe in a savior who suffered, especially for people who are going through suffering and can give him their burdens. But to feel like you need to suffer? Especially if it's for nothing? But Christians feel it's worth what Jesus did for us, and if it's true that he did save us and whatnot, then, yes, it would be worth it. "He took our whooping- the whooping we deserved. He took it for us."

Lastly, the thing that I HAVE to report on! This guest pastor, on a couple of occasions, went from talking (preaching) to singing... seamlessly. It so reminded me of the recurring SNL skit "What Up With That?" when the host of this show tries to talk and carry on with the show, but just can't help but break out into improvised song... Seriously, seriously made me laugh to myself because it was so much like that!


Two hours after arriving, I was exiting the aisle, saying goodbye to the nice people I met when the guest pastor came quickly towards me, embraced me in a full on hug, and said, "Hi sweetie!! So glad you could join us! See you next week?" Haha! I would, just for the music and the good atmosphere. But "next week" - or tomorrow- I'm going Episcopalian. Tune in for the next installment.

Good Antioch quote to end on: "With this material, I could be very lengthy... but you can help me along with your Amens!"

Why now?

I said in my first posting that I have, over the last 4 years, been on a roller coaster of faith and doubt. It's not like this summer was the first time I thought "What if it's not real?" So what is it about this time that has kept me from running back to my Bible and asking God for forgiveness (that's how the other bouts ended)? And what is it that triggered this period?

Well, I think it all started with being in Europe this summer. Of course I brought my Bible and journal, the two things that I needed whenever I had a "quiet time," but having quiet times when staying in hostels is even harder than having regular quiet times usually is. I don't want to blame my drifting from faith on my not reading my Bible (that implies that there is power in the Bible), but I will say that the two factors (less Bible reading and less believing) had a positive correlation. More than that, I believe, was meeting people in this godless area who were so kind and fun, other hostelers who were living their lives. I met so many people who most likely were not Christians, yet they seemed like intelligent, reasonable, loving people. There were even a few guys who I would have been tempted to like if I would have been allowed (Christians are not supposed to develop crushes on non-Christians- more on this point in a little bit). Anyway, in the Christian mindset, there's this awful us vs. them feeling, like all people are are zeros (unbelievers) and ones (believers). The conviction that if I wasn't shedding goodness and the gospel on these people, I shouldn't have been hanging out with them faded fast. I liked meeting these like-minded but non-christian people. I respected them and took them for what they were. I've since enjoyed doing the same thing with non-christians here.

By the very end of my Eurotrip, I was in close proximity to someone from home who is a devout Christian (I don't want to get into names in case people I know one day read this). We were staying with hosts who I don't believe consider themselves religious. Of course every person is different and personalities, individual ailments, education, and backgrounds affect all of us, but the behavior of the person I know from home contrasted against the behavior of our hosts was astounding. The Christian was being very selfish, lethargic, and ungrateful. All he wanted to do was stay inside his room and read the Bible and pray, even though he'd flown all the way to Europe! The hosts were baffled by this. I wanted to cease the day and enjoy my last few days in Europe. I wondered if religion had affected him adversely, like a drug he needed to survive. If a deep belief in God and a certainty that daily Bible reading, meditation, and solitary prayer is vital in keeping going does that to people (what I've just described), I decided that I didn't want a part of it. I was so much more impressed with the non-christians and their natural warmth than I was with him. I wanted to live my life experiencing thing of this world- things I can see, taste, and contribute to right here, not sacrificing everything for something I can't see the way this man was. Unless, of course, I was convinced that the thing I couldn't see really was true.

Getting back to the guy topic, I'm a 23 year old girl who has never been in a serious relationship. It's partly because of the last few years of doubts that I haven't. I didn't want to date a solid Christian man (not like they were easy to find, however) knowing that I didn't have my relationship with God down. I wanted to wait until my love for Jesus was perfect, so that the boy would not became my idol. I also wanted the guy to be a very serious Christian. God was my main focus, He was what I wanted to give all of myself to, so naturally, before I was willing to even consider myself dating someone, I had to be sure that that someone believed fully in God and loved Him too. Although I've not been ready to date for the last few years, many, many people I know have not only dated, but have gotten married. It's much more common in Christian society for people to marry young than it is in the rest of society, because of the fact that the beloveds are at least aiming at saving sex for marriage. Why endure painful years of celibate dating when you could just marry young? Anyway, as I began by saying, I'm now 23. I'm not really thinking that I will be dating seriously for about 4 or 5 more years, because of career and travel plans. If I returned to the Christian dating world at the age of 28, I have a serious concern that all that would be left in the dating pool would be the leftovers. That sounds insane, but I'm dead serious. Christians get married young, and if you find a Christian who's approaching 30 and is still not married, there's often a reason. If I'm willing to risk lifelong singleness and celibacy, I had better believe strongly in God. This is something that made me want to evaluate the logic of my faith.

One thing that has kept my agnostic period going is the comfort and freedom I've found in not believing. If God really is supposed to give a supreme Joy to those who believe in and love Him, why do I feel so good right now? Why hasn't not believing put me in a funk? I realized this morning that I haven't read my Bible since sometime in early June. I haven't prayed anything other than an occasional "If you're real, please, please show me" since about then too. I haven't been to my church in 5 weeks. I haven't been to my old Bible study since May. This is definitely the longest I've ever been without the "living water," but, unlike other periods of doubt, I don't feel at all parched. I feel more secure than I have in a very long time and excited about this period of learning, taking in, and questioning everything. Although reexamining everything you've thought to be true for your whole life isn't a bed of roses, and I'm not looking forward to "coming out" about my current state of unbelief in anything to my friends and family (kind of hoping I will be settled on what I believe before I have to do that), right now, I feel very good. People have commented on a change they've seen: "You seem so confident lately!" "You've been very with-it!" These kinds of statements confirm what I've thought to be true: that being religion-free, at least right now, is a great thing for me.

I know that these aren't exactly questions about Christianity and the Bible, but moreso personal triggers. I can get into my qualms with Christianity later, but I just wanted to write about what set this period off and how it's going. I really need to work more diligently at finding the truth because, to be honest, I've just enjoyed not feeling guilty about wasting time. Not feeling like I need to spend every minute praying, reading something theological, or trying to shine the light of Christ on my non-christian friends. I've loved not feeling all that pressure, so I've just been having fun... watching TONS of curb your enthusiasm (and not feeling bad about all of the cussing and sexual references), reading secular literature, listening to new music, hanging out with friends (both the zeroes and the ones).... Anyway, I will get back to reading books on Christian apologetics, atheism, and other religions so that I can move from unbelief to belief in something or nothing. I don't like hiding this part of my life from my closest Christian friends and I'm looking forward to being honest with them. First, I just want to have a better idea of where I'm going to land.

Thanks for reading, Teresa :)