The Culture Wars or Why I Can't Be a Christian Anymore

I don't love the phrase "the culture wars." It might be that I am a pacifist and wish to avoid conflict altogether. It may have something to do with the evangelical environment in which I was raised. But mostly, I think, it has to do with the idea of there being a right and a wrong side. As if there were actually only 2 sides to an issue. As if the same outcome would be the right outcome for all people. It seems to me that only in the arenas of religion and politics do we ever make that assumption. And it doesn't bode well for any sort of resolution.

This week I've been reading a book, Torn, which spends a good amount of time discussing how the church has promoted the idea of The Gays vs. The Christians. And it has me thinking a lot about how my experience in the church has mirrored this author's experience. I was spared the awful experience of revealing my sexual orientation to all of humanity while steeped in the world of mainstream Christianity. Because really, is there any kid who wants to reveal his/her sexuality, whatever it may be? I would have fallen over dead with embarrassment if I had needed to do so, whatever the reason.

Instead I had the misfortune of being a liberal Christian. To the outside world, this sounds like a non-starter. Who would care if a person is a liberal Christian? There are so many other things to be concerned about. But for me, this was the deal breaker. I found myself, at the ripe old age of 28, in a Christian community that found me anathema. It didn't matter that my theology was carefully considered, or that I had bathed my positions on many social issues in prayer. It didn't matter that I had taken classes at a Christian college or spent time on my own learning how to do inductive bible study. What mattered to the church, in the end, was that I was not like them. I didn't fit. I was outside the lines and I was simply wrong. Very few people cared to ask me why, or even try to understand where I was coming from. And, as it turned out, it was an impossible place to live.

In the end, it just became too hard to fight against it. I was exhausted from battling the constant wind against me; if I wasn't leaning hard into it, pressing forward, it was beating me from the side, leaving me drained and worn. I just couldn't shield myself anymore. And maybe that's what the good Christians around me were hoping for, that I would cave in and see things from their side. But in truth, I was beaten down into a severe depression and wanted nothing more to do with my abusers; it was too much and I left. And the sorrow of leaving almost broke me. I loved my community and my God. I had visions of being in leadership and raising my family there. I was a true believer.

It took years of talk-therapy, prescription medication, and support from my closest friends to get me to a place where I could recognize that I do still believe in the grace and mercy of Jesus. But I never want to be called a Christian again. I can't bring myself to be associated with the very people who turned their backs on me, told me I was wrong for just being me. And it wasn't until I read this book, about a man who had the same experience because he is gay, that my experience was crystalized for me.

I don't know if this is a typically Midwestern story, or if it has more to do with Christianity as a whole, but it has shaped my life more than anything else. I wished for a long time that I could be the sort of person who sees life as black and white. (I see every shade of gray instead.) I wished for a long time that I could have a simple faith and just be like the rest of the church. (But I am too much of an empath; I see so many sides, and that just raises more questions.) Today, I have stopped wishing, and I have realized that I like who I am. I actually enjoy being me. But I have not been able to experience that same joy in the church. I don't know if I will ever be able to. I certainly don't want to raise my children there because they are free thinkers too, and I cannot in good conscience subject them to the same fate.

Perhaps one day I will see things differently, but I don't expect to. I know I will not subject myself to being part of a faith community that cannot love me as a whole person: gay, straight, rich, poor, male, female, liberal, conservative, creative, analytic, transparent, private, married, single, black or white. I believe God made me the person I am with the strengths I possess. I honor that by freely being me. And I believe that about others too. I expect to find all sorts of people welcomed into my community.

Ironically, the church taught me that I would only find true community and friendship within it's own walls; but you know what? I have found some incredible friends who are not there. And they love me and support me without needing me to hold to a certain doctrine. For that I will be forever grateful. And I will continue to keep forging my own community, because I have no other choice. I need my people, and I need to serve others. So we find one another along the way and support one another as best we can. I still believe that people are mostly good. But I am wary of those professing loudly their faith.

(By the way, I'm sure you have a great church, where you find fulfillment, love and community. Many of my friends do and I am truly happy for them. But please do not invite me to attend yours. I am bone tired of visiting churches only to realize that they will welcome me as long as I change. Perhaps one day I will announce that I am ready to try again. But today is not that day. Thanks.)

New Year's Hopes & Dreams

I'm not too big on the whole New Year's Resolutions. I mean, "resolution" sounds to hard-edged, and mechanical. I'm more of a "hopes & dreams" kinda girl. So here they are, my hopes and dreams for 2009:

• to be more spiritual this year; tuned in to the natural world and the supernatural world, and ready for deep conversation, and life-changing moments.
• to be more creative; not afraid to take my art in new directions, or to see my art through in this same direction, open to new artistic and creative opportunities.
• to see and experience new things: places, foods, crafts, plants, the unknown.
• to be more mindful of my relationships, especially my family. I've taken those relationships for granted for far too long. I want to protect and nurture them this year.

Church

I've been thinking about church a lot these days. Trying to put my finger on what it is that feels lacking. For the most part, I love what we do. We are committed to one another in a way that I have never experienced outside of college. I think it's wonderful. 

But lately I have been aching a bit, and until recently, I haven't been able to put my finger on it. I need some hard thinking. I crave the discussion of big ideas, or small ideas. I love to wrestle with the hard questions. I love to read what others are thinking and actually have a discussion with others who are also needing that same thing. And as much as I love our community, it's just not going to happen there. We've tried. There are those of us who enjoy it. But it's not something that will just happen spontaneously. 

What's a girl to do? I don't want to give up what I have, but I need more. (Is that just the epitome of an American belief system?!) I checked out the local seminary workshops and they all seem to be related to music and counseling. And while I am not opposed to either, they are not exactly my baileywick.  So in all my internet surfing, I stumbled across a local church (very mega) which offers 101 things to do. Thing is, I was interested in most of them.

Now, if you know me, you know that I am NOT your typical evangelical. In fact, it's been really hard for me to find a place where I don't feel like I am always the sandpaper rubbing up against everyone. So the fact that these book groups, artist meet-ups, drum circles and celtic services appealed to me was a bit of a shock. I am thinking I will give a couple of them a whirl. At least a book group and the artist meet-up. And the best thing is, I can still maintain my Sunday community. Perhaps there is a way for me after all?

John O'Donohue

I have never really heard or read much about the Celtic tradition of faith, and honestly this man doesn't exactly promote it. But poet and author John O'Donohue is what I think of as a modern day mystic and for that, I like to think of him as Celtic. He is after all a native Irish man. 

I ran across him listening to the Speaking of Faith podcast. It's an NPR show that airs here on Sunday mornings. The podcast is entitled "The Inner Landscape of Beauty." I think I have listened to it now 5 times. It is the sort of thing that I just can't get enough of. A conversation about a faith integrated with a longing for beauty and an intense relationship to God and a friends. I highly recommend downloading it.

 Although he passed away this January, his newest book of blessings has just been released. It is To Bless the Space Between Us: A book of Blessings. I've purchased it and his beautifully entitled book Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom. Anam Cara means Soul Friend. You can see why I was immediately attracted to it.

In Praise of Diet Coke

Ah, yes, it's the lenten season again. It snuck up on me again this year -- doesn't it always? So as I rushed to find a sacrifice for this year, it struck me: I love my Diet Coke. Yes, I know it is filled with chemicals and bone-dissolving minerals and will probably be the death of me, but I still love it. I don't smoke; I don't own a gun; I wear my seat belt; I eat my fruits and veggies, many of which I grow at home; I turn off extra lights and we recycle. This is my one vice. And I miss it. And every time I see someone having a Diet Coke (yes, the name brand is important. Pepsi just isn't the same.) or have the inspiration to go get one, I remember the sacrifice that Christ made for me, and look forward to the coming of Easter, when I will pour myself a very large Diet Coke with Lime and savor the resurrection of our Lord.

Jesus Camp

I watched Jesus Camp last night. It was frieghtening. While it was clear that the makers of the film had an agenda of exposing the radical nature of Christianity, I too, have been a part of that "get 'em while they're young" movement - on both sides actually. And we "knew in our hearts" what we had been called to do. The amazing part of the film is that there is no narration, no real commentary about what is happening. You see folks from a Pentacostal background (called Evangelical throughout the film) doing what they are doing. Proud to have it being made into film. And there is one lone voice - a radio host of a call-in show who seems to be a voice of reason. A voice that is not being heeded by those at Jesus Camp.

It makes me so nervous when I see it this exposed on the screen. What are we doing? It also makes me so greatful for my community. Yes, we are exposing our kids to our views, but it feels more responsible. (Of course, this begs the question: is it really?) I believe that we are informing them and allowing them to take it or leave it; Jesus Camp reminded me of how we preyed on the emotions (fragile as they are) of the kids we "worked with." And the most amazing part is that these people who were homeschooling their kids, and running the camp, were so genuinely concerned for the next generation. They clearly believed that they were doing what was best for them.

Contrast this with the last episode of Boston Legal, in which Alan - a self-avowed filanderer - is confronted with being a father. He has a choice. He notes that he comes from a long line of dastardly fathers, the last always worse than the man before him. Then he says, "I just don't know that I would be a good leader for a young soul." That a "sinner" would be so reflective of what it means to raise a child strikes me as an interesting contradiction to those who seem to be "as sheep" following blindly the dictums of their faith, or doctrine, as it may be. It reminds me of what an enormous job it is to raise a child and how very much we need a village in order to do it. And perhaps a diverse one, at that.

Sabbath

I am not one to really "honor" the sabbath. I wish I was. But today our family was pushed into it a bit. We were all very cranky yesterday and I was a tiny bit under the weather (I knew it was going to be bad when I got teary watching a special about WDW - honestly). I woke up today feeling like I was on the edge and the boys were no better off. Dispite the fact that I was to lead church, we had to take a sick day. I hate doing that. I have really begun to enjoy our church time again. I look forward to being there and seeing everyone.

And so we slept in and had a late, lazy breakfast and took the day rather slowly. I've begun to feel so much better and Hayes seems to be able to tolerate life again. We had so many tears yesterday about so many things, I lost track of them all. Richard still needs some time to recooperate, but over all, I am so glad for the day of rest. I am outside enjoying the day, and my dog, while Richard takes a well-deserved nap. Go figure, the sabbath has been restorative. Things I must try to remember....

Eat, Pray, Love

I just finished reading this enchanting book. Only one third of it is related at all to eating (my summer reading theme, as you may recall) and then, scantily. Even so, it's well worth the read. Although Elizabeth Gilbert is not an author I know well, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this memoir. Although I am no Buddhist, I related intimately to her spiritual quest. And although my lover is no Brazillian, I knew exactly what she means when she writes that his love knows no bounds. I was surprised that this little book lived up to the hype it is currently receiving. You should read it.

The Small And Mighty Garden

So we finally planted our wonderful garden as a church. I am so proud of us! We are going to learn so much about each other and how to be a community. Don't get me wrong; I think it'll be really hard work, maybe even drudgery sometimes. But I am excited none-the-less. Here is a copy of the Garden Blessing and some photos of the endeavor. It was a marvelous morning. (Scroll all the way down for all the pics!)



Garden Blessing

Leader:
Our garden began as a small idea and has become something we would never have imagined. This garden will be a place of hard work. We will learn the lessons of toil and patience, disappointment and surprise. We will be rewarded in the end with lessons we never saw coming, both negative and positive.

We will be reminded that we are not in control; no matter how attentively we tend it, we are only one factor in the life of this garden.

We will learn to live in the ambiguity of waiting: waiting for the sun to shine, the rain to fall, the plants to sprout, the fruit to ripen.

We will be reminded in our weeding that getting to the roots is of utmost importance. If we don’t, the weeds will return again and again.

We will find power in being in collaboration with nature and with God.

We will be reminded about our commitment to our community. We know we cannot create a garden and walk away. The garden will have to be taken care of, even when we don’t want to do it, or when we are sick, or on vacation, or very, very, tired.

We will be rewarded with nourishment of all kinds in the tending of this garden. It is my sincere wish that the lessons of the garden will be rich for us all.


**Process around the garden singing “He’s got the whole world in His hands.”

**Children will plant some seeds in the garden.

**Everyone holds hands.

Blessing:

Almighty, everlasting God, sower and nourisher of the heavenly Word, you till the ground of our hearts with spiritual tools. Hear our prayers, please & pour your blessings upon these sprouting seeds, strengthen them in the gentle movement of soft winds, refresh them with the dew of heaven, and let them grow to full maturity for the good of body and soul. Grant us a sense of constant gratitude for your many gifts, so that the hungry may find rich nourishment in the fruits of the earth; so that we may find patience as we wait for the harvest; so that we may find wisdom in the working of this earth.

My Love My Church

We had a most fruitful meeting tonight. It did not take the direction I thought it would, but when does that ever happen? And furthermore, when it does happen, it never seems to be quite what I had hoped for.

We are in a period of transition, our little community. And I love the way we are handling ourselves. This is not to say that we aren't stepping on toes or making poor decisions. I am certain we stepped on toes tonight. But honestly, that was one of the most important things that happened. Because it opened the door to a discussion we might not have otherwise had. And it helped us to gain insight into one another. Most of all, by the end of the evening, we were not just more comfortable with each other, but we had new information that will help guide us in our future dealings and decision making.

I am really proud of us. I can't wait to see what happens next. I think we are ready for the next step in our journey, and we are taking it together. It feels really good.

Lent, Again

I have tried for many years now to participate in the sacrifices of lent. I'm a big believer in practices. Humans need them; I need them.

But this year, I just couldn't come up with anything. I know it sounds lame, but it's the truth. I concidered many things. Can I stop being cynical? I could try I suppose. Could I give up wine? Not with a trip to Sonoma upcoming. Could I give up TV this year? No. And perhaps I am simply unwilling. The circumstances leading up to lent this year were not the sort that gave me the ability to contemplate my sacrifice as I would have liked. Mom had her moment in the hospital, Richard was traveling more than usual, Hayes was having trouble in school and my studio was in constant disarray. Perhaps this is the year I will enjoy the relief of not sacrificing during lent. I know that Easter is supposed to celebrate just such an occasion, but life does not always happen according to the calendar, does it?

I think that this year during lent, every time I look at my mom, who is still here; and my husband, who loves us so deeply; and my son, who never loses his passion for life dispite the constraints school wants to put on that, I will celebrate the sacrifices that have been made but have not broken us. I will remember the reason we celebrate lent and the relief that we have been given. Here's to lent.

The Reality of Being Me

So I made this bad decision. I wish I hadn't, but in fact I did. I made it so a member of our church could not be present at a meeting. I even did it on purpose, even though my intentions were good. I would imagine most people who make bad decisions say much the same thing. I know my sixth graders did; "But Mrs. Harrison, I did mean to cheat, it's just that she...!" Yeah, that's me. I suppose the culmination of seeing Anne Lamott (a woman who says how it really is), falling madly in love with my dog, reaching some unforeseen limit with a friend, and discussing the status of our church last week finally resulted in some action on my part. Too bad it was ugly.

I feel all mixed up inside. I'm angry and hurt and sad and guilty (what's new?), and at the bottom of it all, I just want things to be easy. Not easier, just flat out easy. I hate the hard work that goes into being involved with the people in my church. I love being friends, true friends, with those people; I just want it to be easy. It's not going to be, not ever. I hate having to eat crow about something I thought was a good idea (and am still not sure was completely wrong). I hate having to be the one in the wrong. I hate feeling manipulated and guilty and trying to be brave when I just really want to have a good cry about it and finally speak the truth about how hard this is and why it's so hard. I want to be able to breathe freely with all the people in my church. I feel like it's too dishonest not to.

We had a good start today. We did speak some truth, but it's not enough if we just stop here, because then it will be personal and our discussion will have been only about me and my poor judgment, and that I don't think I could handle. I am afraid that we will decide that was enough talk and the rest of the struggle will simply fall into the abyss that the rest of our conflict and angst goes. I hope it won't. I hope that we will keep fighting through the hard stuff and do what we can to keep speaking truth. I know I will have to. Oddly, because of today, I have more hope than I previously had that we might be able to keep up this sort of dialog. I hope that we can be honest about our church and where we want it to go. I hope that we can speak more truthfully because we know that we will still love each other, despite our shortcomings, our thoughtless remarks, our poor decisions, etc., etc.

Sometimes I'd rather be anyone than me.

Elation

It frightens me to feel this good. I mean, I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Life this good doesn't last too long. So I am soaking it in right now.

I signed the paperwork for Jezzy today. She is officially our dog -- my dog. I am the sole owner. I love the way she keeps me doing things that are good for me. She won't let me live too long in my own head. And she forces me to walk - I have no good excuse to sit around. In fact, I feel good, really good about me, when I walk her. How can she be so good for me? I love having a dog. I love having Jezzy as my dog.

I saw Anne Lamott yesterday; she was actually in Indianapolis, of all places! And I didn't just see her, I saw her with the most incredible women I know. Almost all of them were there with me and we all enjoyed our time and laughed at ourselves and shook our heads at the stupidity of our culture and the beauty of living our lives together, in the midst of our messes. It was so good. It fed my soul in a way I haven't experienced in a very long time.

And the Chicago show is simply the next thing on my list. I am not stressed in the way I usually am. I am sure it will happen - it's early yet; but for now I am watching my netflix (Bubble, Rent, On a Clear Day), listening to my NPR podcasts (Speaking of Faith, Story of the Day, NPR Books, Diane Rhem) and listening to my iTunes (mostly the soundtrack to Rent) and trying to stay in the moment. And somehow it's working for me right now. Amazing.

Oddly, the "cherry on top" is that our friends are surprising their children with a quick trip to Disney; and for some reason, it's almost like being there, as happy as it makes me. There is no good way of describing it. But just being able to arrange a visit from Tinker Bell makes it fun for me too.

I am so lucky to have my good health, food on the table every night, such an amazing family, such incredible friends, and the ability to pursue my creativity. It's enough to make a grown woman cry.

Passion Week

I am sad to say that the TV sacrifice, while probably the correct thing to sacrifice, was a bust. I am just too passionate about TV. And getting the DVR this week didn't help. Now I can watch what I want, when I want to. I can save up all my favorites and even my less favorites, and have my own mini-marathon. So my passion this week is still for the Christ and yet, my TV calls me too.

I don't see this as a bad thing, just unfortunate that my will power is not what I'd like it to be. It also helps me to remember that Christ too had his weak days, and only because He was fully man and fully God was He able to say no to His human passion and yes to His mission.

It's so helpful to participate in Lent -- my faith needs it.

The Big One

It's funny how having children leads us to more self discovery than anything. Today at church we began discussing what our purpose is in having a "children's program" and ended with a discussion about what the gospel really is. Not your typical church service, I admit; neither are we your typical church. Our goal is to come back next week with some specific needs that our children have, or things we would like to develop in our children and see how our church can and cannot meet them. I have no doubt that this will reveal much about what we, ourselves, believe about the gospel and it's effects in and on our lives.

This is scary to me.

Needless to say I am more liberal in my theology than even I ever would have predicted. I do not see eye-to-eye with most evangelical ideas and fundamentalist principles. I balk at the thought of teaching the children anything like what I was indoctrinated with. I am afraid that any attempt at this will fall short and our children will be worse off for it.

However, the thought has occurred to me just today, that although in the last several years I have decided that the church would not be a good place for spiritual formation (ironic, no?), that our church, in fact, is not your typical church. We have beliefs about God that run the gamut. We have about as diverse a group of people as I would believe possible. And yet, more importantly, we have this commitment to one another that surpasses anything I have ever encountered in the church at large. We have stayed together because of this, even though we do not all, praise the lord, think alike.

So although I am still as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof, I am willing to enter into this discussion -- the big one -- about what the gospel is and how we wish to see it played out in the lives of our children. I am willing to trust these people I love so dearly because they are committed to me too. We are not likely to run out on one another simply because we disagree. We are willing to be pushed a little in all directions, even when the stakes are as high as messing up with your own children. God help us all.

Fat Tuesday

Lent begins tomorrow. I always try to make a meaningful sacrifice for Lent. It's not always easy. I feel that it needs to be something I will miss so that I will be reminded of Christ's sacrifice often during this period. And it should be something that I rejoice to have again at Easter. The typical sacrifices, red meat, chocolate, other food items, usually leave me feeling shallow, like it won't be enough for me.

But this year I find myself knowing that TV is the thing I have to give up for lent. I really don't want to, but it's been at the front of my mind for the past 2 weeks. Nothing else seems to compare. So for me, starting tomorrow, there will be no Boston Legal, no Project Runway (the agony! I'll miss the final episode), no Academy Awards (even though I've been in a mad dash to see as many nominated movies as I can), and no (big gulp here) What Not To Wear. I have run the gamut on the TV spectrum, from being to poor to have one, to banning the evil technology from the house, to falling in love with all it has to offer. As I am currently in the loving it phase, I am sure this sacrifice will hold it's weight this year. Pray for me folks. Tomorrow the ashes....

The Love of Money

So I've been wondering, what is it about money that makes me so distrustful? In my life I have been at both extremes of the money tree: we've had more than we knew what to do with, and we've wondered if we would eat tomorrow. This week, I have had occasion to interact with a number of "monied" people as several school events seem to be converging on me, the introvert. I hate these times, because I don't believe I can trust the actions of these people. Why is that? I know in my head that money does not automatically make a person dishonest or false. Some of our dear friends have much more money than we have had and I have never, in 20-odd-years, felt distrustful of their motives. In fact, I, along with the rest of America, would love to have more money and have convinced myself that money alone would solve a multitude of my problems. (And indeed, it may.)

But money makes me nervous. I worry that I could start to value things and my lifestyle over people. I worry that others around me have already begun to do so and in turn I erect my own walls of protection. I worry that the people around me who have money (particularly those I don't know well) are insincere and don't really want to know me either. It reminds me of mega-church in an ironic way. I somehow have convinced myself that these people will be nice to me here and in this place, because there are social dictates to do so. They would never risk showing their true feelings because someone else might find out and then there would be that whole awkwardness about having socially misfired (I think the church likes to call that sin).

So in a strange twist of fate, I have wound up the mother of a student in a private school (which I am convinced meets my child's academic needs 100%) where money seems to abound; birthday parties are a chance to show off your home; designer clothes are the norm and my aging minivan stands out in the crowd in a way that would embarrass most. I tend to wear it as a badge of courage, right beside that chip on my shoulder where the distrust of my heart sits and whispers in my ear. Would more money cure this problem? I seriously doubt it. God help me; we have 9 more years to go.

The Chronicles

I've been reading the Chronicles of Narnia for the first time (I would never have admitted at Traders Point that I hadn't actually read them). I loved The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, was ambivalent about The Horse and His Boy, liked very much Prince Caspian, loved The Voyage Of The Dawn Treader, and again was ambivalent about The Silver Chair. I have one more to go -- The Last Battle. Lewis had such a grasp on his theology; at least it seems so from his writings. Often, I too, want to be that sure. I don't know that I would actually allow myself to feel certain about it. Every time I have, it has somehow come back to bite me in the ass.

So I am enjoying the reading of such certain faith and far-flung adventures. It makes me happy that a grown man created such fanciful and amazing places. Reading all the chronicles together seems like some sort of stream of consciousness writing about what God is like and how we should and need to be interacting with God, even though we are likely as not to actually do what we should. There is a bit of comfort in knowing we all slip up, yet Aslan loves us even so.

I am actually sorry I waited so long to read them; and yet, I think I would not have appreciated them so much as now. Because I think I am reading them now as they were intended to be read: as a child. Not as theology or any complicated allegory. They are wonderful children's stories about a God who loves us and helps to guide us. Does it really have to be any more complicated than that? Perhaps our reading of the Holy Scriptures should often be more like that too. I just think God wants it to be simple. Did you hear the word easy? Too bad. I did too once. Not easy, just simple.