Faith...

I’ve been grappling with “Faith” a lot lately. 

Especially after last year.

I was raised Christian or Presbyterian if you want to get specific.  I went to a church called Covenant Presbyterian in Orange.  My mom is Christian.  My dad calls himself Agnostic but believes in God.  Just not much of what the bible says.  I went to Vacation Bible School as a kid.  I even taught Sunday school for a while to the littles.  Then things started going awry, making me question faith.  This usually happens when you get old enough to have an opinion and start to question things, which most of the church folk don’t usually like.

It started when our “Teen” group teacher guy started talking about Pre-Destination.  Basically God has his chosen ones and then the rest of us.  From what he taught, if you were “chosen” it didn’t matter what you did (like murder someone), you had your ticket to heaven.  I raised my hand:

“So if I live my life being a good person and helping others and doing right by the world and not killing, stealing, etc.  If I’m not “chosen” I don’t get to go to heaven?”

Precisely.

Bullshit.

This led to half our group starting to act “Chosen”.  It was ridiculous.  This was also about the time (I was about 11/12) I started getting into drugs, teen angst and lots of questions/opinions about things.  I of course wasn’t “chosen”.  Some of the kids started bitching about this to their parents and the teacher was promptly canned. 

Well that’s good at least.  This church did not believe in Pre-Destination.

We also had a minister at the time that I really did like.  He didn’t really “preach”.  He told stories.  He was really animated and cool and fun and I didn’t even feel like I was going to church when I listened to him.  It was more like a great stage presence sharing his stories.  He wasn’t judgmental.  He didn’t care who you were, you were accepted.  He was a really great man.  He moved away, got hit by a train, was on so much medication he ended up committing suicide.  By the way, this man had a lovely wife and like 3 kids.  WTF.

The man that replaced him was a dick.  It divided the congregation in half and people were basically on one side or the other and at war with each other.  This is when I left the church.

Now, even though this particular church had its share of bullshit, I left because I was starting to not be sure of what I believe anymore and would have left even if the church was unicorns and flowers all day.

I still prayed at night but I didn’t go to church anymore.  Neither one of my parents pushed any sort of anything on me or my brother which I appreciated. 

Well, life went on.  I never really questioned anything, just sort of went along with my life.  The man I married had pretty much the same sort of belief that I did so religion wasn’t really a part of my life ever again.  When people would ask me what I believe I replied with “Spiritual, not religious.”

The older I got, the more I wondered.  My circle of friends is a huge modge podge of beliefs.  I have strong Catholics to total atheists.  Most of my friends really aren’t all that religious at all.

I would still pray.  Usually the same prayer all the time.  Asking God to keep me and my family and my friends and my pets safe and healthy.  A man who would make me happy. Blah blah blah.

 Then there would be adjustments depending on what was going on.  I usually would always be praying about somebody because somebody always had some sort of shit storm and I would feel bad and pray it gets better for them.  This went on for years.

Then I started understanding politics a little better and things like Prop 8 arose and people were spouting off such hatred about two people of the same sex getting married was wrong because the bible said so.  I found myself losing friendships because of this.  I would get into arguments with people I didn’t realize were so religious and close minded and come back at them with “It also says you can’t wear wool, or color your hair or get divorced in the bible!  Your telling me that you people can pick and choose which “laws” you want to believe and it’s ok?!”    These people are not my friends anymore because THAT’S WHAT THEY BELIEVED!  I just can’t do it.  I can’t argue that point anymore.  It’s ridiculous.

So I started talking to friends of mine who really strongly believe in God and fight Prop 8 as hard as I do and ask them.  “WTF do you say to people?”

I started a really great conversation with a friend of mine whom I adore and she says the God she believes in just wouldn’t be that way.  Wouldn’t judge people on who they love, etc.  I started really drilling my mom because she too was a fighter of Prop 8 yet believes in God.  She said “The Bible really needs to be updated.”  Mom also told me not to always pray for the same things, that I should believe when I ask for things they will happen when the time is right.  I asked other friends of mine who were pretty religious but open minded and they all said pretty much the same thing.  Yes the bible says certain things but it’s the bible they necessarily believe in, it’s God.

These conversations helped a bit but still had me wondering what I believe. 

I found myself trying to be more grateful and thankful for things.  I pretty much stopped praying unless there was something really bad that happened.

I then started seeing a Buddhist Therapist.  I had always appreciated Buddhism and was now learning it and somewhat practicing it.  I now found myself taking a bit from every religion and sort of mixing it into my own.  I started trying to meditate.  To be less violent.  To be kind.

Then my head exploded.

Once I recovered I found it odd that I didn’t pray once.  The whole time I was in ICU I didn’t pray.  I heard a shit ton of people prayed for me.  My dad told me he believes in the power of prayer.  I was asked if I “saw a light” if I was ever scared.  If I prayed for help.  To live.  To not be in pain.  I just stared at them blankly and said nope.  Nothing.

Of course when you have a near death experience it’s normal to start questioning faith more and more which is what I have found myself doing.

I met with our Dean of the Chapel here at Chapman and told her all of what I have stated above.  She said “Why can’t your meditations be prayers?”  Hmmmm.   Good point.  She was a great person to talk to and when I say Dean of the Chapel – this Chapel is the Interfaith Center which houses all religions, beliefs, etc.

In May Rainn Wilson spoke at the baccalaureate here and spoke of the Baha’i Faith.  It sounded amazing.  He was so inspirational and I picked up his book Soul Pancake that “Answers life’s big questions”.  I haven’t read it yet but I plan to.

Losing our friend Little John last week ripped my hear t into pieces as I sat and thought about what it was like as he lay there knowing he was going to die soon.  It made me realize how scared I am to die.  I am scared of the unknown.  I am scared to be alone. 

I think, and I say I think because I’m still exploring, I have come to a conclusion on what I believe.

I know it sounds wishy washy that I don’t just know, but I don’t.  I feel the need to continue to explore but I’ve started to realize it’s all going in the same direction.

I believe in something.  A God of sorts.  I don’t think it is necessarily meant for us to know what it is.  But it’s there.  Something is there.

I also believe that when we die that’s not it.  There is something else.  What that is I don’t know, and again, I don’t think it’s meant for us to know.  This is also why I think it’s ok to be scared.  I mean who isn’t afraid of the unknown?

I also believe that when people ask the big question “What is the meaning of life?”  My answer is to live!  I think the meaning of life is to live your life, practice loving-kindness, be good to your fellow human and animal kind and to continue exploring.

Some may say this is a cop out, but I don’t care.  When you look at all of the religions out there they are basically all the same thing!  They all have a “God” of some sort; they all have an afterlife of some sort – whether that is reincarnation or another life who knows.  They all pretty much tell you to be a good person.  I mean it’s all the same!  It’s just worded differently.  And for the bible?  I think that was a bunch of stories written by a bunch of men many lifetimes ago.  I’m sure there is some truth to a lot of those stories, but that’s just it – they are stories.

So when asked – I probably am pretty much still spiritual.  I’m on a path of finding my way but I feel like I have some substance now.  I still pray but not often, usually in situations like last week when I’m praying for comfort and love to be sent to the family of my friend.  I practice mindfulness and meditation daily.  I am constantly practicing gratitude, writing it, praying it, saying it in affirmations.  I’m trying to bump up my random acts of kindness and be a better person all around. I believe in balance and energy.

I know I rambled on a long time on this particular subject but this has been quite a wrestling match and it feels good to finally get a little of it out of my head.

This is right. 

This is what feel is right in my heart.