I'm hoping that if you all read my break-ups you guys will also read about a relationship I'm still working on. My relationship with God. (I'm wincing because I sooooo don't want to proselytize. I want to share the conversation I've been having, much like I've shared other things in my life here.)
I've been going to church with a friend this fall, off and on. I go for a couple of reasons. One is that my friend loves, loves, loves her church, and since she is one of the most inside-and-out beautiful people I know (there are days that she glows, for serious) I thought it was worth a try. Describing her is inevitably going to sound cheesy, and that's a shame, because she should be giving motivational talks. She is sincerely inspiring with NO CHEESE involved. It's really an amazing gift she has. She also has shared some really important things in my life, so I wanted to share something important to her. She is the same friend I swim with, and when I first went to church with her, the series of services was all on WATER. It seemed perfect since she and I had been having a lot of deep talks about letting the water hold her up, and learning to trust the water.
I also went because I was curious. Let's face it, going to a church that holds thousands of people is an experience! (Oh, and it WAS! There is a lot of energy, the music is phenomenal, and their main pastor is perhaps the best speaker I've heard live, ever, anywhere.)
But mostly I went because God and I have been fighting for a few years. It wasn't always this way. Sure, I told my mom when I was 13 that if getting confirmed in our Episcopal church meant that I wanted to be part of that community, and liked those people, I would do it. But hey, wait, getting confirmed means something to them that it doesn't mean to me - so it would be wrong, because I don't have the J.C. feeling. But I still believed in something, even then.
I said that then, and I still do, have a lot of doubts about Jesus. Historically, there's not a lot to support it and as much as I'm an emotional person (an ENFJ as a matter of fact, on almost every test) I also analyze and think my way through my world a lot. There's enough to support that he was a man, and that he was here, and sincerely, I think his teachings were pretty radical, and if I'm being honest, I agree with them! I think things would be better if we were all more loving and accepting and unselfish and we took it as our responsibility to take care for one another and to show compassion and support for our neighbors, our brothers, the weak and sick and orphaned among us. Most importantly, if we could all learn to judge others a little less, and to leave that to the side, that would be huge. I have had tiny tastes of discrimination in my life, and the feeling of being judged before I had any time to prove myself, the feeling of being suspected, disliked just for who or what I am is enough for me to be certain that it is one of life's wrongs. Let me be clear, I think it's ok to draw a line and say, "This is not ok." It's not ok for someone to abuse their children. It's not ok for someone to drive drunk. But I know people who have done those things. And guess what? They aren't bad people, just struggling. There are stories about how they got to those points. I don't have to condone their actions (and I don't!), but I can still refrain from judging them head-to-toe. The world would be a better place if we all could stop scrutinizing each other all the time.
So, I'd be lying if I said I didn't think Jesus was right about a LOT. Sure, people use his name for horrible things, but that's kind of like identity theft. I shouldn't take responsibility for someone stealing my credit card and using my name to go to a sleazy strip club, but similarly, we shouldn't saddle J.C. for the wars fought in his name, for the people tortured, killed, or run down. That's us as a species screwing up and hurting each other, not him.
I think the bigger issue for me is that if someone today said "I am without sin, sent here from God to save you all," we would swerve off that sidewalk really quick! We would commit that person! And it's an issue for me that so much of the Christian faith and traditions were adopted from other faiths and traditions in order to try and keep people comfortable as they moved into this new faith. Aaaand, it's a bit difficult for me to swallow that it was the First Council of Nicaea that voted on his divinity. Before they took that vote, he was known as just a man. A man that taught what he taught, thought he was God's son, and a man who got murdered in a particularly politically driven and craven way - but yes, a man. And people get things wrong. The vote could be wrong, the people who thought he was just a man could be wrong but it's impossible to know. So, me and my brain look at Jesus, who had other people write about him and didn't write his own book, and I understand that the key here is to take it on faith. And I have a big heart, and a big brain, but nothing left over to put towards that faith.
And that's been ok for me, because I know I do believe in things. I believe in God and big forces at work. I believe I am loved more by my friends than most people are loved by their families. I believe that there is a pattern and a structure to how things unfold. I believe that things happen for a reason more often than not. I believe that my friends that don't believe in God and work to be good people every day are just as good, maybe even better than my friends that do believe in some kind of God - they're doing it just because it's the right thing to do, not because they are worried about their sin-tally. I believe that love is worth fighting for, and it can change things. I believe that laughter is the best medicine. I believe that our challenges can also be our lessons. I believe that believing in things matters.
But, God and I have been struggling for awhile. Like I said, it wasn't always this way. I rarely felt anything in church growing up, but after we left the church, I continued to reach out for God. I went to other churches, and I read a LOT. I read the Bible, cover to cover. I read the Torah and parts of the Koran. I read about earth based Goddess religions and Norse magic. I read Greek Mythology. I even read Tao of Pooh for good measure. And I didn't find answers, just more questions. And so maybe the key there is again that it's not about getting it intellectually, but I can't stop myself from wanting that!
Still, there was a point at which God and I were ok with each other. I saw God as a big force that brought people together the way that they needed to be, and I was totally, thoroughly, completely fine with that vague picture. I went to Quaker meetings (despite my family poking fun at me by saying they were sure I couldn't sit quietly for an hour). I made the very firm decision to be involved with that group but not to become a "member" because again, it would mean I was saying I believed in J.C. on some level and I wanted to be honest. I sat at my friends' Shabbat table and piece by piece learned the holidays, traditions, beliefs, an questions of an observant Jew. I was re-exposed to the Torah in a way that brought it alive, and I joined in to the discussions and questions of the Talmud. I came to so many holidays that I ended up having specific jobs and contributions for Passover and Sukkout. I took long walks and while formal praying felt weird to me, I sent messages to God. One very hard month I remember asking him every day for strength, patience, and the conviction to do what was right. When that situation passed I wanted to keep talking to God, so I started sharing all the things I was grateful for. I was able to pray at the Shabbat table with an open heart, and to sit at my Quaker meetings and just be and feel God near and feel assured there was a way things were supposed to be, and that if I wasn't ok with everything every day, that was all part of a bigger pattern I was woven into.
Then a lot of things happened. I moved here. I moved here for love, and the bottom dropped out of that. I moved here and found myself so alone that there was no reconciling how I got here. I picked myself up, and I'm glad to be here now, but whatever fragile thread connecting me to an idea that things happen for the good was severed. Right around the time that I found myself wanting to think about maybe picking up my end of that thread again I started dating someone who is blessed with a complete and total faith, and a specific belief in Jesus. Initially, it was a hard subject for us to discuss so I dropped that thread all over again.
But, a funny thing happened. The best way I can describe it was feeling like God or something started to try and track me down. I started finding myself in all kinds of deep conversations with my best, best friend about religion and science and God. Then, I went to an Al-Anon meeting thinking, "I am surrounded by addicts, maybe they have some thoughts I could use." Right on the heels of that I thought, "I really hope they don't spend all of their time talking about the Higher Power. Ugh. I so don't want that right now." And guess what? My first, second, and third meeting were all about the Higher Power, but in a funny twist it was all people sharing their doubts about God and Higher Powers, about how hard it is to trust God with important things, and about how they sometimes have to "fake it" and pretend to hand things over to a Higher Power because otherwise they go crazy trying to solve unsolvable things.
Riiiing, ring! Phone for you Christie.
I was laughing inside as I cried on the outside, took a tissue and said, "I'm mad at God. Because I'm surrounded by people with problems who won't go get help, so I have to come here. And it sucks. Like, why should it be true that I can have two beers and stop, and they can't. Why them and not me. But then, also, why should I have to be the one who deals with it when they won't?" I said other things, but they weren't very nice things, so I'll leave them in that room. You get the idea.
So, when I went to church with my friend and the whole service was about how love can be deep like water, and go on forever like an ocean, and also be like a rolling river of justice and mercy and compassion . . . yup, it caught my attention. The call went out for contributions to a local shelter and because I believe in love and giving back and showing compassion (It physically hurts me to drive by a homeless person with a sign and not give them anything. I know the reasons not to, and I don't always have a dollar or a granola bar on me, but it tugs at me). So, I bought two very full bags worth of stuff and brought it back. I bought one of everything on the list, and more than one of many things. I did it because it felt good to do something concrete to help someone, because at the time, my problems were too big to be solved by a shopping trip to Target but someone elses problems could be ministered to by pasta and peanut butter and baby formula. I was curious to see how everyone else responded . . . well, if you read that entry they responded with 224 THOUSAND POUNDS. It's hard not to be impressed with that.
I took a break then, sat back on my heels thinking, "If this is what a community of church-goers who really believe can do, maybe it's not such a bad thing," but also thinking,"I don't know if I belong there or want to." I love my friend, I love what the power of that group can and did do, and I want to talk to God more, but there is more Jesus-talk there than I knew what to do with . . . see above. But I've found myself presented with messages several times over in the last few weeks that God would really like it if I stayed in touch more, so I'm trying. I'm trying to have a conversation, but it's a hard one. And I'm angry and bitter a lot.
Me: Hey. I know it's been awhile.
God: That's ok, I'm pretty patient
Me: Things have been pretty difficult lately, and I know that's when everyone else asks you for things, but I don't know how to.
God: What stops you?
Me: I think you probably have more important things to do. I mean, I have a roof over my head, a paycheck, an education. I'm probably not at the top of the list right now.
God: I don't play favorites. Prioritizing is a human thing, not a heaven thing.
Me: Yeah, ok, but you also let things happen that suck. Big things. Like the Holocaust and genocide and wars and child abuse. So, it's hard for me to believe that you give a rat's ass about my concerns about all the addicts in my life, about the demons I'm facing down myself, about the addict I love that may never love me more than he loves his drug and may always resent me for trying to help him. Who broke up with me "because he loves me." Yeah, right.
God: It's tough for me to answer that, because that's about your anger and hurt more than it is about anything else.
Me: So, just tell me then why horrible, horrible things happen in the world. Use the Holocaust or Trail of Tears as an example.
God: I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Literally. Because it will make more sense when you can see the big picture in heaven.
Me: Ok, well that feels worse and more unsatisfying than when Alanis Morissette tweaked the nose of the person asking "Why are we here" in Dogma. Let's say this. Let's say, for the sake of argument, I believe J.C. was your only son. People not only tortured and killed him, they now use his name to justify discrimination, hatred, violence against people who don't share their beliefs, and fundraising for the SAME! And you let it happen.
God: I have to let my children make mistakes in order to learn.
What?!
This is where I get pissed off all over again.
So, when I sat in church last week learning about Psalm 30, I thought, wouldn't it be nice if there was a way for God to actually meet me in my weakness. I edited out the part where the pastor said, "Jesus carries your cry to God and turns it into something holy" and just made it "general God" but I thought . . . wouldn't it be nice.
"I will extol thee, O Lord; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me.
O Lord my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.
O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.
Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness.
For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favor is life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." Psalm 30
It's been a few mornings, and there hasn't been any joy. Maybe it's metaphorical. Maybe it takes more wholeheartedly praying, and doing it without doubt. Maybe it takes something I lack. Or maybe God and I are still arguing.
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