Loving the lesson (church of Our Lady Gaga)

2/20/12 Addendum: This post has begun to be referred to as "church of Our Lady Gaga." Why that's the nickname will make more sense below, but you know, tee hee.

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Every time I write about faith or belief or God, I feel concerned. Will my atheist and questioning friends feel I'm on an agenda? Will my religious friends understand that my doubts and questions and struggles are about . . . envy for their deep reserve of confidence in something bigger than themselves?

Mostly, I worry that it's impolite to talk about it.

But, there are only so many posts I can write about the day-in-day-out of job searching, interviews, about disappointment, about hope, about possible futures. I could keep writing those posts, but I fear then that all of my readers would tire of me. And since well over half of my readers are people I know and love, that would be unfortunate.

So here it is - the promised post about my current religious struggles. I haven't been particularly closed booked about this. Over the summer, I had some very distinct experiences that were . . . bigger than myself. And, if I'm being honest, I think there are forces at work in the life changes that I'm sorting through now too. I might not have made these changes on my own and man alive do I need these changes.

In the midst of having the distinct feeling that God was trying to get my attention, I found myself in some very heavy conversations in surprising places in my life. Conversations about why it's hard to trust God, or to ask God for things, or to hand over problems to whatever concept of higher power applies. I found myself in a bunch of conversations, hearing a bunch of stories, about doubts, about losing faith, and about why some of my friends had defined their beliefs the way they had. And all of this happened without my initiating it.

At the same time, my most inspiring friend and I had been having a lot of deep conversations about beliefs, experience, and how they're not always right. She invited me to go to church with her and, here's the surprising part, I did. And after some misgivings . . . I kept going.

Let me make sure to say this - there are so many things at that church I love. The music is, well, phenomenal. And the message there every day is simple - God is love. And people were made to carry out that love here. Love one another, and be merciful. After conversing with their staff some, I also know the heartfelt belief there is that we all make mistakes, and all mistakes are viewed equally, and are equally forgivable. Those are my values, and I talk that talk even when I cannot walk that walk. As a new friend said to me today, "Everyone has inconsistencies, its just a matter of how much data you have." I'm not exempt from that, and I want to believe that even when I do mess up, and even when I say one thing and do another, I can be worthy not only of forgiveness, but love.

And so when I was sitting in a chair, with someone who loved me and didn't judge me, listening to music that moved me, and hearing some of my values spoken . . . I was too intrigued not to keep going.

And. Andandand, it did help me reconsider my relationship with God, and even more, reconnect with it.

So, the first time I heard something there and wondered exactly was meant by it I let it roll off of me. And the second time, I asked some questions. But, recently, I heard some things that really caused me to have to walk away.

Just now, the church is talking a lot about how to help men become their best selves. Something that they've said, that I agree with, is it's important to take aim at men because when men choose to be irresponsible little boys (their words, NOT MINE) it wreaks havoc on families and societies. Now, to be clear, I would say that when women choose to be irresponsible jerks, terrible things happen too. The difference is, in almost all religions, women are held to a standard that is really, really unequal and assumes they are responsible for things they never chose for themselves. So, I appreciate an open, religious discussion about men upholding their part of the bargain.

Speaking of equality, the last service I went to was talking about men, and women, and why it can be tricky for men and women to join together. And a major theme was that men and women are different - emotionally, physically, mentally. I've written about this before. Men and women are NOT the same. And equality should be aimed at giving men and women equal opportunities to get what they need, not reducing the differences between them down to nothing.

The choices men and women make are, by definition, different. If I choose that I want children, I have to think about my personal, bodily health and if its possible for me to be pregnant, and then out of work. If I choose I don't want to give birth, then I have to consider if I want to raise children in other ways, or if I don't want them at all. If I make those choices, they are comments on my femininity and my beliefs. If men think about having kids its whether or not they're with someone and can do it, if they can support them. There are no medical or physical implications and few workplace consequences. And if they choose not to have kids then it's not a comment on them as men. And while this is a very polarizing and publicly discussed example, it's only one of the many ways that the genders are not the same in how choices, realities, biases, and needs play out.

What we need, what we want, what we benefit from are not always the SAME. So, I was completely with the minister as he discussed how men and women aren't the same. I was with him as he said that pretending that we are the same diminishes our capacity to be who we need to be to ourselves and each other.

Where he lost me was when he gave this quote:

“The tendency today is to stress the equality of men and women by minimizing the unique significance of our maleness or femaleness…. Confusion over the meaning of sexual personhood today is epidemic.The consequence of this confusion is not a free and happy harmony among gender-free persons …but more divorce, more homosexuality, more sexual abuse, more promiscuity, more social awkwardness, and more emotional distress and suicide that come with the loss of God-given identity.”  John Piper

Now, I hate to be a stickler, but, that's not from the Bible. It's a weird thing for me to be a stickler about, since clearly I look a lot of places other than the Bible. I would even say . . . I don't reach for the Bible for answers. It's not unheard of that I would get inspiration there but in general I believe that the Bible may be true . . . but our society may not be smart enough to understand it. So, I reach for . . . my experiences, the imaginings of others, sci-fi, and research, wikipedia and well, LOTS of things to get my information. I also hold people to high standards and one of them is that I expect a lot out of people in terms of doing what they say they will do. So, when I'm at a church where the Bible is held out as the authority on life, I kind of expect it to be treated that way.

I also take issue with the content of this statement, in a couple of different directions.

First, I have to say, I think I'm over people simplifying their concerns about homosexuality down to men being effeminate and women being masculine. It's tired, and doesn't at all describe the lesbians I know, or the gay men. Plus, it kind of leaves me in the cold as a bisexual.

I also have to say, I find this quote just really negatively dismissive. I really can't hold with equating homosexuality with divorce, suicide, and sexual abuse, under any umbrella - gender roles, illness, traumas that families face, none of 'em. From my perspective, if people or communities REACT to homosexuality by treating it as a trauma, illness, or sin, that's where the problem originates. Not the fact of someone NOT being straight.

I struggle with God because I'm a planner and when my plans get subverted I am thrown. But here's something I never struggle with - I don't think God makes mistakes. I didn't choose to be me, just like my friends who are gay didn't choose that. And in the realm of believing that God manifests, if as anything, as love here on earth, then I will not condemn my friends who have found love. Even if that love looks different in their houses than in mine.

My friends' marriages, be they legally recognized federally or not, are the marriages I look up to. And when I went to their weddings, one of which I was the best woman in, I did not take my promise to uphold their union lightly.

So, when that quote was given, I actually sat back in my chair. I felt almost as bad as if someone had slapped me. I take my loyalty to my friends and my beliefs so seriously that I almost had to stand up and leave. But, I also felt that it would be hurtful to the friend I was there with, and to the other people there. It made me nauseous to sit in that chair for the next 20 minutes.

So, I went away and sat with myself for a week. I went back and listened to the service online. And I . . . blush . . . prayed. A lot. I prayed about maintaining my beliefs with or without that community. I prayed for that minister because I know he didn't mean to be spreading hatred, but that statement wasn't loving. I prayed that I could have that conversation with my friend and have it be about beliefs and love and questioning, not about judgement.

And to me, that's a little bit of the crux of the problem right there - a year ago, it wouldn't have occurred to me to pray, though if pressed, I would have said I believed in God. But that pressing might have had to be pretty forceful if I'm being very honest. And six months ago I would not have needed to be pressed to admit my belief, but gun to my head wouldn't have resulted in anything resembling prayer. I knew God was there for me, but I was far too pissed and tied up in knots to say anything to God about it! (Ironic, I know)

So, it matters to me that the lesson I've learned at this church is that God is something I can feel and reach out to and that my faith can be in trouble but still be something that anchors me. I am trying to love that lesson, even if I can't love the church as a whole.

And I spent a week really wrestling with that. The problem is, there has never been and will probably never be a religious community that is an exact fit for me. I often get involved with other people's rituals, beliefs, and traditions as an outsider. And I'm fascinated. I love to learn and understand - not just from an academic standpoint, but in terms of what drives and holds together people I know. And somewhere along the way I begin to notice things that make me think about something, or feel something that I didn't before and think, "Hey, there's something here." and then I see or read or experience something and think, "Oh, no, not for me. Not a match." And I'm never sorry I saw or learned or experienced those things but it does mean that finding a place for me to practice my religious beliefs has never worked.

On the other hand, it means that somewhere inside there is a compass indicating what directions my beliefs point in.

But, they never land all in one place. This is partially because there is no church or worship community that holds communion as a celebration (preferably using tequila shots), nowhere I can be baptized in bacon, and hear testimony from a gay drag queen (this is to say, no lifestyle judgments in my church except for fashion . . . sometimes we all need a fashion reality check, let's face it). I want to celebrate how things are mysterious and powerful and beautiful with Mozart, with sacred music, but with Lady Gaga too. And, in the words of a friend quoting a book we both were moved by, no evangelizing. The 10 commandments are fine as they are, but there needs to be an 11th that says that interfering with any other ways of seeing or finding the divine is forbidden.

I'm not going to find that church (aka the Church of Our Lady Gaga). Doing shots of chilled Patron with lime wedges alone rules that out, not to mention drag queens. But the point is, I went to a church that helped me define that showing and sharing love, whether it's in prayer or in a book or in a dance party is what I am looking for. Do I throw the baby out with the bathwater because they point to a book I have some concerns with? There's a lot of literature I have concerns with.

For now it means I can love the lessons I learned there, but can't BE there because the love that has best shown me what love can and should be like is my friends, and those friends that are my families (sometimes more my family than other people's bio families). I am understood for my good and my bad and my ugly by those people, and loved anyways. I can learn about my connection to God at church, but I can't feel that love without my friends. And this isn't just about my fierce loyalty, it's also that if I stand at a wedding of two of my best friends and am part of supporting not just their marriage, but the day they held themselves out to the world as a married couple, I can't re-neg on that promise on my part. And, at least for now, that means I can't go to a church that I couldn't bring my family to.

But, in the meantime, I walk away with a clear image of God's metaphorical hand wrapped around all that we know, and the space in that for everyone to make their own choices, but for only the things that can be shaped for good to be allowed to enter into that space, to make it through the fingers of that hand. I can't see my time there as bad. (And the fervent hope that I can be a visitor in my friend's church, and that she will welcome that and not be hurt.) This is progress, for me, if not yet the place that sees God quite as expansively as I do.

Zombie Survival Plan

About three weeks ago the wind was howling for days on end. 30 miles an hour all day long with gusts at 75 and above. It was intense and it interrupted my sleep. I had about three nights of really disturbing dreams, and one of them was right before an interview.

I had gotten an email asking me for that interview, and since my application had been as a response to Craigslist, the email didn't help me with the problem I had when I applied . . . which was that I didn't know very much about what this job would actually have me do. The email asked if I could meet that Friday at 11, and gave me an address, that was all. Somehow the combination of unnerving winds, sleep deprivation, anxiety, and unknowns combined and formed in my brain as a really horrible dream.

I dreamt that I showed up in an office park for this interview, and the building I was in had a long side hallway. It was dim, and there were no doors along the way. I walked down the hallway, entered the office, and the reception area was normal, normal, normal. I waited in a chair, and as the receptionist took me back, I was pushed into a dark room, chained to a metal frame on the wall, and locked up for over two days. There were other women there, most drugged or beaten. We were sold for . . . . well, you get the picture.

I was freaked out enough by this that when I went for the interview, I texted the address to a friend and picked a check-in time to text again. I joked about this on Facebook, but I was actually pretty upset.

A friend was joking with me the next day, and I was telling her about the actual interview, and how when I had to go down a long empty hallway, I actually almost reconsidered, and when their reception area was completely dark, I almost left. She joked, "You were thinking there were zombies in there." And quick as anything I retorted, "No! If it was zombies, I would know what to do!" You see, I have a zombie survival plan, but not a terrible-people-selling-woman-flesh plan.

So, you know, clearly, there were neither zombies nor disgusting pimps at that interview. But, in honor of my favorite show coming back tonight with the mid-season premiere, I want to talk about zombies. (I mean, let's be honest, I always enjoy talking about zombies. But since it has little to do with my quest to balance my life and make it more meaningful, I restrain myself here as much as possible. Other occasions in my life . . . maybe not so much restraint.)

So, here is the deal, while I don't believe in zombies, I do heart them deeply. And I have thought a LOT about zombie apocalypse preparedness. Luckily, a lot of the basics apply to being ready in case of other emergencies.

So, now for your reading pleasure, I will discuss my zombie survival plans.

If zombies attacked me in my home, well, I have two sliding glass doors and a window at garden level. So, I would pick something up and start swinging, close and lock a door behind me, and get out. There is no making a stand in this condo. If I had been in that office, same idea. Pick up a chair, start swinging. Aim for the head, and try not to get backed into a wall or room with no door. And then run.

But, the thing about running is, no matter how great your cardio endurance is, you will not be able to do it forever. So, in my mind, it's important to run smart, not just fast. You don't want to run into any dead ends or enclosed spaces. Nowhere dark if you can avoid it. And you want to aim for somewhere that will allow you to rest/close out the zombie pursuers for a bit or somewhere that will allow you a more permanent safety. Like the horror movie rules put forth in SCREAM, it is also wise to not run up anything you can't get down off of. Zombies used to be people, and people can climb stairs, and in some cases, trees. Run out and DOWN whenever possible

Now, most people who survive the initial wave do it out of luck and quick reflexes. Being in the right place at the right time, or accidentally figuring out how to stop a zombie that comes after you (go for the head!) will keep you alive on the first day, maybe the second. But the key to the third day and beyond is to start stockpiling necessities.

My list includes building a plan that allows me and whomever I'm with to have more of some important stuff:

• Water - need a source, and a plan to purify it
• Food - standard stuff applies here. Lots of protein, and stuff that keeps well. Canned goods are great, but hard to carry if you're hiking. Protein bars, protein powder, and jerky seem like the right call, however unappealing.
• Medications and someone who has some medical knowledge (EMT, nurse, doctor. More on that in a minute).
• Shelter
• Weapons (More on that in a minute too)
• Transportation
• People
  

Yes, that's right, people. The thing is, without other people, I'd be a goner. I'm not that fast, I don't know how to shoot a gun, and I have health issues. But even if those things weren't true, surviving an apocalypse depends on people working together. Anyone on their own can't sleep, whereas groups can set up shifts and protect one another. That is a BIG deal not just in terms of safety while sleeping/vulnerable, but also in that sleep deprivation will impact long term health, and can impair judgement in the short term. And, with more people, you are likely to bring together different skill sets than your own. My guess is that a camp of people trying to survive don't need my experience as a business consultant or writer, but I'm a fast learner, know basic first aid, and they would benefit from my cooking, and my ability to find answers and organize. Meanwhile, one hopes that there would be someone who knew more about weapons than me.

If we're to believe Hollywood, what I can expect is a magically blended group of lots of different ethnic backgrounds and skills. My requests are for one person who knows electronics, one person who know weapons and can train others, someone who has medical knowledge, and someone who knows something about food and agriculture or finding food in the wild (I have a friend who knows all about edible wild plants - she would be welcome in my group!). So, having more people isn't just about safety in numbers, it's about gaining different skills in those numbers. I'm accepting applications now . . . you know, just in case.

A special word about children: of course, with no kids, it doesn't matter if my group survives, or even another group. Humans would die out eventually. So, kids are necessary. But let's be honest, they're also risky. (In the race to stay alive, kids slow us all down. Brutal, but factual) The nature of children is that they have to push the envelope while growing up in order to become adults. That often involves impulsive, loud, messy, high-profile behavior. Which of course is dangerous when trying to protect an encampment or run for your lives. So, I think kids have to be handled very carefully. And honestly, that means there have to be enough people to help handle them. And a stable location if at all possible. Good lord, I just hope that no one with a toddler hooks up with my camp despite the fact that I love toddlers.

See how people are the most valuable resource in case of surviving a zombie apocalypse? A group of about 10-20 is ideal if actively running and not hunkered down somewhere stable. If somewhere stable, it's all about what your facility and supplies can handle without being stretched too thin. But, of course, if the group gets too large, some kind of hierarchy or decision making structure has to be put in place. Lord of the Flies plus zombie apocalypse is a baaaaaaaaaaaad plan.

Now, in an urban environment, you want to look for a building that has access to other things you need such as food and water, but at the same time, it can't be something too big to hold down. For instance, I would NOT recommend a hospital - it's too big to secure. Too many places where zombies could work their way in unbeknownst until it was too late. I have the same worry about department stores or malls, plus the big plate glass windows in those places too. I can see reinforcing a Target with a group big enough. Plus, then you have the air mattresses and granola bars right there, some basic first aid supplies, not to mention the built in Starbucks with the espresso machine (ahhhh). The other big concern in this situation is that nowhere, not even a Target or Walmart, will have everything you need for all time. So you need to have a plan to be able to get in and out very stealthily without being chased, or caught.  Here's the trick with that Target-type place. I and my zombie-surviving peeps  could decide, "Yes! That store is perfect!" but if you get there, and there are hordes of undead wandering around, and it will be noisy to get by them . . . it's not perfect. In an urban setting, you can bet that if there's a crowd of 50-100 zombies around your spot, there are hundreds more just a couple of blocks away that WILL make their way to you once they hear the scuffle or the shots fired. Move on to plan B, quickly and quietly.

In a more open or rural environment, the choices are a little more complex. I've heard arguments for mountain tops, valleys with water sources, small towns. I'm willing to be persuaded on most of those. I'm not a fan of the mountain top option, because it would be easy to get surprised by a tenacious horde that made the trek and happened to come upon you on the part of the mountain that sealed off your route. I have been convinced that a free-standing building that has a generator, some guns, and the ability to be secured could work. I'm also a fan of the secluded farm or ranch, as long as there are enough people to stand watch in shifts. I am NOT psyched about the idea of camping out doors . . . too vulnerable.

Transportation depends a lot on setting, but suffice it to say you need at least one form of transportation that is very maneuverable on different terrains and can weave in and out of things - motorcycles and horses come to mind. But this should not be the primary form of transportation for the group, since their strength of being smaller and more movable is also their weakness in that in the wrong situation, that lightness could easily be preyed upon and taken down . . . literally. So, you also need something big and tough - giant redneck trucks and tanks come to mind.

Now, here's the deal. Once shelter and a group of people to secure it and keep it supplied and secured are in place, then it's time to think of other things. Weapons are everyone's priority, and I see it as an important piece. But, for me, as long as a range of weapons (guns, yes, but something quieter too . . . guns with silencers? Cross bows? Axes? Throwing knives? I'm not entirely sure yet. ) and a cache of ammo is socked in, I'm good.

My primary concern is that after a group of people is assembled and has survived a week or more, then the issues become not just the zombie-problems, but the people-problems. This is to say, survival in an apocalypse is about more than not getting eaten; it becomes a lot about how civilization's answers to our problems may or may not exist anymore to be taken for granted. Routine surgeries and health issues quickly become life threatening. That appendicitis could kill you. That asthma attack could take you down. So for me, medicines and medical knowledge are paramount. Included in that is the dire need for birth control. Somehow, when trying to survive and make sure life is still being lived, people seem to like to . . . ahem . . .  get it on. Lets be honest, we need kids to grow up in this apocalyptic imagining, but nobody needs to be pregnant while running for their life. By the second trimester, that's just like a two-fer for the zombie that catches up to her.

There are other things too, though. Like, taking for granted the things that technology provides. Hence, someone with a background in electronics, technology, and/or mechanics is most welcome on my zombie team. I need someone to help me re-start a generator, hot-wire a car, fix a radiator, or get the radio working.

So, my hope is that if I could fight my way out of the aforementioned office or home invasion, and meet up with the right people, I could learn to shoot, make a fire, find food, or at least cook the food that was found, siphon gas, and expand my basic first aid to include giving stitches if not removing diseased appendixes. Let me know if you'd like to join me in case of apocalypse.