A Personal History of Religion - An Essay

Religion is something that I have struggled with for as long as I can remember. When getting baptized around age 9 or 10 I remember hoping and praying that I’d finally get that "filled with God's love" feeling or secret or whatever it was that everyone around me seemed to have. As Reverend Shearer dunked me in the water, I hoped that it would all wash over me like a perfect white light. After all the baptisms (there was about 5 of us) I just remember observing everyone else having this look of pride and satisfaction on their faces. I'm sure I had that look too, but what I remember thinking was "Ok, I'm wet. When does the rest kick in?"

I went to Baptist camp for a week almost every year growing up. It was way back in the WV mountains (Cowan, WV) in some really beautiful country. I loved the alone time I had every day, the beauty of my surroundings, and the fact that my mom and grandmother attended the camp in their youth. Every year towards the end of the week, there would be a big passion play of some kind put on by the counselors and campers would have the opportunity to be born again. I probably went forward about 3 times total over the years hoping that it would help me to connect with my christianity and with God. But honestly, every single time I went up, I felt like a poser. I already knew what I felt in my heart but I was scared about what that meant for my eternal soul. I kept going up just in case God was real, then he would know I was atleast trying. But if it had no meaning to me (other than to cover my ass), how can it have had any real meaning to God?

I remember numerous occasions my freshman year of college getting dressed to go to a nearby church because I felt like I should, like it would be good for me. And then I’d go down stairs and outside and get paralyzed on the front stoop of my dorm. I couldn't do it. I didn't want to go and I felt tremendous guilt about it. I was also so afraid it would be the wrong church, or that i'd be judged or worse, not welcome. I'd heard from other friends that they had tried a few local churches. They would walk in and receive looks of unwelcomeness or not be acknowledge after the service on the way out the door during the typical post-church handshaking. you know, like "oh great, more flakey college students." Thats just not the world I'm from and it scared me to go there. So I never did. A few years later a friend and I looked in to the Hindu faith (thanks to some lovely bald visitors to our camps who were handing out literature) and read a bit of the Bhagavd Gita. Hey, it was good enough for George Harrison, right? Krishna was interesting, as most eastern religions are, but eventually I lost interest. I had a great roomate in college and she is a Mormon. I will always appreciate the experience I had with her because she never tried to indoctrinate me, we had great philosophical/religious discussions and she never, ever judged me for my choices (some of which were not so great). She taught me that you can have a conversation with someone with a completely different idea of what is right and come out respecting one another.

After visiting the desert for the first time, seeing the Grand Canyon and the beauty of Utah, and having an OBE (see: Out of Body Experience...no, really) around that same time, I was moved to explore the Buddhist philosophy. I read some really lovely books by Thich Naht Han. I struggled to read the Dalai Lama's books, but I tried. I meditated. The ritual of it all was very cleansing. I also loved that it was about loving yourself absolutely. About finding beauty in simple things and being conscious of everything single thing you do. It had nothing to do with indoctrinating, or making judgements or going to hell or putting all of my hopes and dreams and "faith" in something that deep down I knew wasn't there. It had every thing to do with working on yourself with absolute humility. We are all mothers. We are all children. The middle way is a beautiful way of thinking.

To further my religious experience, I just happend to marry a Jew. I have learned a great deal about Judiasm and I have a great love and respect for it. The ritual of Judiasm isn't as exotic as I once imagined. Infact, its fairly similar (at least in the reformed temples i've been to) to a church service. There's some music (usually in a minor key...they are a sad people), some call and response and some prayer (usually with a little Hebrew here and there). I have on occasion pondered the idea of converting officially to Judiasm but there is something that stops me: I'm not a Jew. I don't have that perspective on the world. Its a religion/culture that really, you have to be born into to truly understand. My daughter will have the very special experience of growing up Jewish. I’m reading a book at the moment called “Jewish, with Feeling.” I’m trying to gain a better understanding of Judiasm from a spiritual perspective so that when Lilly starts asking about God, that I’ll have a leg to stand on. I could always send her off with her questions to her father, but I want to participate in the conversation as well. Hopefully, when the time comes, she'll embrace it. And if she doesn't then I'll at least be able to share with her the things that I have learned on my soul journey.

It wasn't until recently that I came to the conclusion that its ok for me to explore other religions and not come to any single conclusion. Just like reading this essay might be hard for someone who believes that there is only one way or one truth, it was always hard for me not to believe that there are many ways to spiritual. I feel like I have finally unbound myself from the chains of religious dogma. Hey Christianity, its not you, its me.

We went to temple with a friend of ours one Friday night for shabbat services a year or two ago and when we got there we heard that the Rabbi's wife had died very suddenly that day after a bout of the flu. She was young, mid 40's I believe, so it was very tragic. It was a somber affair but I remember the president of the temple speaking briefly after the service and he mentioned a common Jewish belief that what happens in the hereafter being a bit of a "crap shoot." Thats pretty much how I feel about it. No matter how much we pray, or read, or believe, we really don't know what comes next. But I can sure live on the hope that we might get to spend eternity with the people that we loved here on earth, whether in this life or in a previous one. And we can all continue to learn from and love one another right now.

God Bless, Shalom, Namaste, Hare-Hare...Be well.