why i don't hate christianity: part I

Oops - I've slowed down considerably on these entries. I'll blame it partly on baseball but mostly on the fact that my mind has just been in a valley of the topography of interesting thinking, so to speak. In other words, I've been so preoccupied with the mundane that there's been no room for contemplating my belly button. It's kind of nice.

But all good things must come to an end, and it's time for me to start thinking outside the confines of day to day again, as refreshing as it's been. And what I've been thinking about is Christianity. This has been sparked by a few things. For one, I discovered that someone very dear to me felt uncomfortable bringing up the topic of Christian spirituality with me, and two, the kids at YRUU have chosen the topic of their youth service to be the bias against Christianity in our UU congregation. Now this second thing - I had quite a lively debate on the topic with one of the teens because I did not see this as a problem in our congregation. But I have to give myself lots of credit here, because I realize that teenagers have a perspective on life that I don't have (anymore), and that their insight can not only be unique, but also valid. So I've gone with the topic 110% and have been perusing the internet and the UU library for essays or readings in support of their service, and you know, there are some interesting things here. More on that later.

Before I talk about where I am, I'll talk about where I've been, which may be rather silly because just about everyone who reads this blog already knows me well. But for completeness, I'll go ahead. I was raised as a Christian (Methodist - which I see as a fairly gentle protestant religion) and jumped into it with both feet during my high school years. Along with band, it pretty much defined who I was as a teenager. I was born again and saved, hallelujah.

When I went off to college, while I didn't totally abandon Christianity, my spiritual life was shoved into the back seat due to other, much more entertaining, activities. In grad school, I did briefly try to rekindle my relationship with Jesus but began to realize that there were some conflicts between my gut and some of the teachings. Rather than grapple with the uncomfortable, I stuffed the whole Christian thing into a back closet and didn't think about it much. Out of sight, out of mind. I had other things to worry myself with like a new job and a new state and hiking and Jaycees and dating.

Several years later, however, I found myself in New Jersey, knowing no one and craving a familiar community. So I decided to find myself a church to attend one Sunday morning. I remember that service clearly, not for anything the paster said or what the choir sang, but because as I sat there uncomfortably in the back pew, I realized with sudden clarity that I did not belong there. I went back to my little apartment and realized that quietly along the path of my life, I had stopped believing not only in the tenets of Christianity, but I had serious questions about the presence of a god. I spent a lot of time those evenings gazing up at the stars (I had a great view from the balcony of that little apartment) and thinking. As much as I wanted to keep the comfort of god with me, I just couldn't justify doing it because it wasn't true to my nature any more. I couldn't articulate my reasons, and I would have failed miserably in a debate over religion or god. All I knew was that nothing was more important than being honest and truthful with myself. So I can't point to an event or happening that made me stop believing in a god. I just gently realized, finally, that I didn't. So while that transformation was an important one in my life, it was very quiet and happened under the surface. It just was.

And while this wasn't a good feeling, it was a true one, so I finally openly admitted it to myself and to those close to me. But I was in a spiritual void - I knew what I did not believe, but I didn't know how to articulate what I *did* believe. I did know, suddenly, that I stuck out like a sore thumb in my semi-conservative area down here in the SE U.S. One justice of the peace informed me that my marriage was damned to fail when I told him I was looking for a secular ceremony. He, in fact, went on to inform me that it was LAW to believe in god in this state because it was written on our money. Hoo boy. In any case, my point is that I realized how difficult it was going to be to be a non-believer in America. At least Jews have the whole "god" thing in common with Christianity. I, however, was associated with Madeline Murry O'Hare and evilness and a totally amoral soul. (Note here that it really isn't all that bad - these are the opinions of strangers. My friends and people I care about were, and are, quite open to respecting differences in beliefs...so it's not like I live my life feeling ostracized or anything even remotely close to that).

Many years later, after children, I found myself wishing for something like the religious community I was raised with for them. I wasn't looking for the "religious" part, but the extended family part - without all the baggage (by only my definition) that an organized religion would include. By luck, I discovered Unitarian Universalists (which, as the joke goes, are defined as "atheists with children"). Bingo. A place to bring my children, a community for them, where they could BELONG, and discuss spiritual matters with reason and without the pressure of sin and hell to frighten them into forcing their beliefs into a preset mold.

So that's where I came from religiously. I have a very Christian past, and I remember it (this is the key) FONDLY. There are many parts of christianity and judaism or any organized religion that I like, such as the belief that people can change, and charity toward others. There are also parts that I dislike intensely. But the thing is that I am uncomfortable with religion and god as a part of my life. They are garments that don't fit me. They fit many other people beautifully, and I am happy for that. Not only that, I respect that. Again with the truth - if someone finds that the only way to be true to her/himself is to believe in the truth of Christianity, then that is perfect.

I do reserve the right, however, to despise parts of Christianity (or any other religion) that are biggoted or closeminded and even cruel and dangerous. I personally think the whole view of earth as a haven of sin and ugliness that some Christians have is an awful view to give people, and a sad way to live, for instance (thus my amusement at things like the "Born OKay the First Time" bumper sticker). The melding of Christianity with politics and government that is currently happening gives me scary chills. But I realize that there is an enormous span within Christian beliefs.

To be honest, this hasn't always been and easy position for me. Religion, as a definition, has the potential to be used as a powerful and very dangerous weapon (e.g., christian crusades), and that potential frightens me. It's easy for me to see the negatives of religion. But as I meet more people and discuss spiritual matters with them, I am growing and improving. It's not necessary to throw the baby out with the bathwater. So yes, there are parts of Christianity that I really and vocally hate. But I don't hate Christianity. I enjoy hearing about the joyful parts of anyone's spirituality, be it pagaen or buddhist or christian or pantheist. Anything that spreads such positive energy within a person's psyche touches my own in a postive way too.

So I'm gonna stop right here for now. This has become long, and I haven't even begun to wax philosophical about where I am now on my spiritual journey, or how and why many people feel that UU congregations are very biased against christianty (those darned teens - see, they're making me open my mind. The title they decided on was "Radical Inclusiveness: Expanding your Spiritual Comfort Zone" How cool is that?)

Today is gorgeous and the kids are off from school, so about 6 families in our neighborhood are meeting out at a local park for a picnic and hiking. Life continues to be good.