Religion

The 'R' word. I've been internally battling with myself on whether or not I should share my thoughts on the subject of religion. I know doing so will make me vulnerable to judgement and attack. I know most of my readers won't be able to relate. I know it's not what many of you want to hear. However, I've decided to say what I have to say for two reasons. 1.) This is who I am and I'm tired of omitting this part of myself to preserve the comfort of others. 2.) One time someone confided in me their true beliefs and I felt comforted in not being alone. Perhaps, this post will comfort someone out there who has felt shamed into silence.

If you are easily offended regarding your religious beliefs, then you won’t enjoy this. If you are already thinking of rebuttals to defend your beliefs, then kindly ignore my existence in its entirety. I’ve heard it all.  

I am not a Christian. 

I was recently questioned as to exactly how I came to believe what I believe. This was coming from someone who was very offended by my beliefs (or lack of) and demanded an explanation as to how I could possibly doubt what they so faithfully devote their beliefs to. Ask and you shall receive, my friends.

The first memory I have of church is when I was about 4 years old. I was doing a children's activity that involved stickers as a reward. I imagine it was Saturday school. Saturday school? Yes, Saturday. The seventh day. The Sabbath, according to Seventh-day Adventists.

My family attended a Seventh-day Adventist church regularly. It wasn't as common as Baptist or Methodist churches, but the theology is the same in many ways. My memories are retained from pure youth - impressionable, innocent, and clueless. I didn't have a preconceived notion about religion and society. I knew what I experienced and how I felt about said experiences and that is all. With that being said, I recall feeling like church is a place where you go to act good. Better than you really are. You put on your nicest things, you stand up straight, and you smile at the old people.

The people at church believed in living life a certain way, a very specific way. One summer day my dad was outside mowing our yard with his shirt off when some church members paid an unannounced visit. Showing your body in this way was frowned upon by the church, so the sermon the following Sabbath was about exposing yourself. Like most families, we had a television in our living room. Another day someone from the church came for a visit and saw our television. The following sermon was about the unholy televisions.

The church was very involved in its members’ lifestyles. Seventh-day Adventists emphasize health and diet (a "holistic" understanding) and are mostly vegetarian. Whatever is done in eating or drinking should honor and glorify God and preserve the health of the body, mind and spirit. In order to adhere to church beliefs, it wasn't a 'should', it was a 'must'. 

Along with omitting meat and eating a healthy diet in general, alcohol was obviously a big no-no. My dad was the bread winner of the family while my mom was a homemaker. My dad worked really hard to provide for us and we always had more than enough. At the time he worked at a printing and packaging plant. The company originally printed packaging for Coors (beer = sin), and was called Coors Packaging. (It eventually expanded to work with other companies and is now appropriately named Graphic Packaging.) Many church members viewed my dad's place of employment as unacceptable. Sometimes he had to work on Saturdays and couldn't come to church with us. In case you haven't figured out how this works by now, there would be a sermon preached regarding the issue.

My mom and dad stopped taking my sister and I to church when I was 5 years old. We didn't change churches, we just stopped going altogether. However, that wasn't the end of my church experiences. I went to a Baptist church every week with my best friend in elementary school. We went to youth services on Wednesday nights and for regular services on Sundays. I was pretty involved. I even got baptized. I was "saved" at church one Wednesday night. The youth leader recited a prayer and I repeated the words in order to be saved. The truth is, I did it because I felt like I was supposed to. I felt like all the other kids at church were saved, so I needed to do it too. As I sat and repeated the prayer verbatim in order to be saved, I felt nothing. I was baptized a few weeks later in front of a huge congregation on Sunday morning. It never felt right. It never moved me. I eventually quit going.

The saga continues yet. After several years of not going to church, I began attending another Baptist church regularly when I was a teenager. I would go with my boyfriend's family every Sunday. I tried really hard to feel it. I wanted to feel it. But the truth is, I never did. The seed had been planted long before and going to church never felt natural. It always felt like a societal obligation. The sermons felt forced. The preachers seemed desperate for people to listen, feel, and believe. They would beg people to come to the alter to pray and be saved.

The real end of my church going came after that boyfriend and I broke up. The church was really small and susceptible to gossip. Even after the break up, I went to that church one Sunday by myself because I was still trying to do "the right thing." As soon as I walked in I was judged. All of the women that were normally so nice to me were lending sideways glances and whispering. I trudged on. I found an empty spot in a pew toward the back of the small room and sat silently. It was one of the most vulnerable moments of my life.

The service kicked off as usual with some singing and the passing of the offering plate. Then the preacher started his sermon. It was about how the earth was created. He made a statement that anyone who believes there was some kind of "big bang" was not a true child of God. In fact, he went even further and said that to true Christians, there is no such thing as science, just the Lord. That was 8 years ago. At the age of 16 I got up and walked out in the middle of the sermon. I have not been to a church service since.

So I'm not a Christian. The mold didn’t fit. Some people are surprised seeing as I'm from the buckle of the bible belt. But I also don't like country music and I hate sweet tea. I may as well be transplanted from Mars. For whatever reason, to many people saying you're not a Christian means you automatically an atheist. I am not an atheist, but some of the kindest and most selfless people I know are atheists. So back off, will ya? I don't have a name for what I believe. If I had to label it, agnostic would be appropriate. Though I don’t really feel the need to check off any list or check mark any box. 

I believe in a higher power that is much older than Christianity. I believe in being a good human who strives to help other humans. I believe we will be held accountable. I believe in ghosts and spirits. I believe our body is a vessel for our soul. I believe our soul lives on in another form after we die. But I also believe in aliens, so what the hell do I know.

There are many differences in the beliefs of Christians (and other religions) and myself, but there is one colossal thing that sets us worlds apart. Fundamentalists view their belief as the TRUTH. I suppose that's why they feel so confident telling me that I'm hell-bound, because they know. I've said this to a Christian before and was met with the response, "Well, we don't really know. We just have faith." Then don't speak as if you know. Don't demean my beliefs just because you see yours as correct. I have never and will never claim to know the truth. I'll never believe anyone will.

I am married to a man that identifies with Christian beliefs. We live quite harmoniously. He doesn’t tell me that I'm wrong, or that he'll pray for me to find my way to Christianity. He doesn’t feel it’s his job to enlighten me, in hopes that I’ll come around. We listen to each other. We respect each other. We learn from each other. My beliefs are well-informed. 

I don't need sympathy. I don't need a bible or holy water. I don't need prayers. People have personally told me all of these things and it is insulting. When I was pregnant with my daughter, a friend told me that they felt the deepest sympathy for my child and how she would be raised. They said I should let them keep her one summer to “straighten her back out.” The sting from that one burned for a long time.

I will continue to live with an open heart and an open mind. If I find myself in hell one day, I can only hope there are some other cool people there, like Johnny Cash.