Dictionary.com (the be all and end all of all reference
material duh) profoundly defines a journey as, “a traveling from one place to
another, usually taking a rather long time.”
I think we could all take a moment to absorb that. So, moving on. The point is that a journey should take a
while. Or at least cover a great
distance. So this summer, I’ve decided,
shall mark the beginning of my journey through the academic search for
religion.
Of course I’ve taken a peek here and there. Dug through the closet of faith. Taken a road trip through Soul Searching
City. And strangely enough, I thought I had reached
my destination until about a year ago. I
believed in God. In Jesus. However, I thought the Bible was a lot of
bunk, not without threads of truth, but essentially, a series of articles
written by men, humans, sinners, with a personal agenda of their own. Not to mention it has more contradictions
than well, the Bible. If you google the
word “contradictions,” most of the results discuss contradictions in the Bible. And I’ve never believed that if you’re not a
fundamental Christian that you’re going to hell. That belief defies logic to me in a world
where we’re all the product of our personal experiences and those personal
experiences do not include exposure to Christianity in the majority of the
world. I believed in being a good
person, in having good intentions, and in leading an honest life.
So a year ago began a strange turn of events that have left
me with a lot of questions. In what do I
believe? In whom do I believe? Are my beliefs firmly grounded in
history? Are any religions firmly
grounded in history? If so, why are the
followers of conflicting religions equally adamant about the authenticity of
their faiths? Is there really a common
thread among all faiths? If there is a
God, does He (or She) really condemn people to Hell or rule with a mindset of
compassion, understanding, and forgiveness?
Is there even a Hell? Does my own
faith merely stem from my childish notions of acceptance, equality, and “doing
the right thing” because I’m too afraid to accept a fiercer God in my “mean
people suck” utopia.
Let me document where I originate and the events that have
led me to the state of utter confusion where I rest now. The daughter of a devout catholic father, whose
voyage through the seven holy sacraments was interrupted only by a divorce
chosen by an agnostic mother. A mother
who believes and instilled in me to an extent a distrust of organized
religion. A belief that most religions
are manipulated by humans, sinners themselves, to justify war, hatred, dishonesty,
and intolerance. That such followers
seek forgiveness of sins over an attempt to avoid sin in the first place. That it’s okay to spread lies about people or
to steal from the poor if you throw a 10-spot in the offering bucket on Sunday
morning, wink at the altar, and ask Jesus for forgiveness. That fundamentalist Christians commit the
greatest sin in judging the eternal resting place of non-followers. I mean, hey Christians…Luke 6:37: Judge
not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned:
forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.
What.
Although the proverbial *evil* (but delicious!) apple
doesn’t fall far from the tree, I’ve always been a big believer in forming my
own knowledge and my own opinions. While
they undoubtedly are shaped by my upbringing, I do make an effort to
investigate that which is imparted as fact to make my own determinations. A favorite quote for years from my good man
Buddha has been:
Do
not believe what you have heard.
Do
not believe in tradition because it is handed down many generations.
Do
not believe in anything that has been spoken of many times.
Do
not believe because the written statements come from some old sage.
Do
not believe in conjecture.
Do
not believe in authority or teachers or elders.
But
after careful observation and analysis, when it agrees with reason and it will
benefit one and all, then accept it and live by it.
So, in search of what is real and true to me, I have spent
much of my life exploring different venues of faith. There was that time when I was emotionally
kidnapped by a couple of Church
of Christ followers at
the mall. Definitely not a good
fit. I also explored various Catholic,
Presbyterian, and non-denominational churches.
Some felt better than others, but all left me with an uncomfortable
feeling of hypocrisy. A couple of years
ago, at the recommendation of acquaintances, I began attending what I’ll call,
the big, weird, rock band church. While
turned off by the masses of single Atlantans spouse-searching in the house (or
office building) of God and the theatrical light show and effects aimed to
appease an ADHD, media-addicted public, I found solace in the words spoken there. Solace, thought, wisdom, and peace. Many of the sermons even brought me to tears
with their inspiration, compassion, and thoughtfulness. My Sunday pattern was church followed by the
gym where I would run and run and let the words fall over my body again and
again as I evaluated their impact and what they meant for me and for my
destination. And so my faith blossomed
for the first time ever and I felt clarity.
All of that faith came to a halt about a year ago. A sermon at that time set forth the church’s
belief that Jesus is the one-way ticket to the golden arches. It doesn’t matter if you’re a child who grew
up in a Muslim home, the product of the same religious influence that brought
the preacher himself to his own Christian faith. You, kid, are going to hell. Bummer.
The preacher said, “People say to me all the time, ‘But that isn’t
fair!’ Well, life isn’t fair.” And that was that. I never returned. Then, not too long ago, someone I loved
dearly told me he believed I was going to hell because I believed that
non-Christians were not going to hell. As we talked
about the matter, I found myself unable to support my views with historical,
religious fact. And I began to question
the basis of my beliefs and my faith. So
here I am. Spiritually confused and
academically ignorant. But excited to
see what I learn and where I end up.
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