Knocking on heaven's door

Kind of a long one today. OK, it's a freaking book chapter.

I first posted this on BGG 6 weeks ago, before Elaine was born. Since I'll be discussing religious items from time to time, I thought I'd throw this up as an intro to my theological perspective.

"I was raised as a Roman Catholic, from baptism to first confession. The next scheduled event would have been confirmation (kind of the Catholic equivalent to adult baptism, or being ‘born again’, but with oil instead of water). But my family drew up stakes and headed for the Carolinas to enter the exciting world of retail ownership. The hectic nature of running a hardware store in a small town distracted my parents from things like my religious education, and it sort of went by the wayside. I hadn’t really been that taken with it, anyway. Thinking about Christianity dredged up half-formed emotions of anxiety, guilt, and dread. Suffice to say, I hadn’t been paying that much attention, what with the pretty girls at church all dressed up in their Sunday best.

Eventually, I began to see the idea of God as rather ridiculous, and I began to scorn those who were blindly and spinelessly led by the word of God. Living in the Baptist South, near the gilded wonderland of Heritage, USA (Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker’s compound/waterpark) and during the advent of the megachurch, I had plenty of easy targets. Near the end of nights spent partying, I loved to turn on televangelists and laugh at their wide-eyed, sweating faces as they went into hysterics. I especially loved Robert Tilton, who would implore a man (or men) with some problem with the stomach or stomach area to touch his TV screen and receive the healing touch, followed by Tilton muttering some babble that was supposed to represent Speaking in Tongues. HI-larious.

Several years later, I realized that I DID actually believe in something more (meaning an afterlife of some sort). Meditation and thoughtful contemplation led me to kind of a half-baked view of life, death, and justice, where we would be so unified by death that we would finally understand each other (I would know the harm of my actions, and others would understand my original intent, for example). In this view, the universe started by purely physical principles, and God evolved into being as the spiritual residue of our deaths.

Further questing led me to read about the roots and practice of Hinduism, Islam, and Buddhism. Then it occurred to me that I had been heaping scorn on the gullibility and hypocrisy of Christians for lo these many years, but that I had never actually read the Bible. I set out to read it as literature, cover to cover, and I used a study bible that included footnotes on the historical context of the writings. I did pretty well getting through the OT, until about halfway through the prophets. At that point, I said, “OK, I get it.”, and moved on to the NT. I found the NT to be very compelling, and read it twice before acknowledging that I might just be a Christian. I knew that I was moving back to Michigan for grad school, so I resolved to find a church when I got there.

I'm back, baby!
I got engaged when I moved to Michigan, and my fiancé and I attended the adult initiation classes at my church (I went with Catholic, probably due to lingering childhood connections with the music, incense, and liturgy). We later broke up, but I continued attending the classes, as the end point for me was finally getting confirmed. I was glad that I didn’t get confirmed as a younger man, because it should be an adult decision, based on careful thought and a thorough understanding of the faith.

As I began to understand the how and why of every aspect of the RC mass, I gained a deep reverence for the two thousand years of honing this style of worship. Rather than reciting the creed and the Lord’s Prayer, I gave each line my full attention and intention. I saw the mass as a time when we are lifted up to heaven to perform this act of worship in God’s own presence, and He unites us as one body. There was more than one occasion when I thought that I felt the power of God while praying during Mass. This led me to seek more ‘experiences’ of God in church, expecting to be moved every time. It also led me to be more self-centered in church, so that the Mass became more of a solitary activity, something achieved in spite of all those other people there.

Eventually, I left that church. Ann Arbor, surprisingly, is a center of some of the most conservative Catholics in the US, and a core of parishioners began affecting the fabric of the community. During the 2006 election cycle, I was basically told (during a homily) that I should only vote for people who agree with issue X. This also happened in 2004, but this time, it was the final straw. I moved over to the student parish. It was nice enough, but I didn’t get that sense of awe there, and I never got involved by volunteering for ministries. But I think that getting out of that beautiful marble church with the pews and kneelers and going to the largely wooden campus church with padded chairs and a much more liberal bent allowed me to look at what the Mass really offers, and what I was really seeking.

It’s clear to me now that I was getting high, so to speak, on Jesus. When you see the snake handlers and faith healers on TV shaking, falling down, babbling incoherently, they really believe that the Spirit is moving through them. But I remember as a child how you can get yourself worked up into a crazy lather very easily with no thoughts of God or Jesus. More like a cat getting all worked up over its tail. I’m not saying that it’s true in every case, or that God doesn’t work that way, but I do believe that a lot of it is seeking that high and achieving it psychosomatically. I never raved or gesticulated, but I think that I had been an experience junkie, looking for some tangible manifestation of God to justify my faith.

The Question
I haven’t been to church in a few months. The last time I went to Mass, I was struck by the sense that this was a really strange way to worship God. That’s the point, right? I know that there are a few other important things that people get out of attending church, such as community, a much-needed reminder of how to be kind to one another, etc., but the main point is to worship.

So what is worship, really? I can think of how a human would want to be worshipped, but God? The OT God wanted sacrifices, but the NT God supplied the sacrifice, and made it abundantly clear that we do not gain favor by our worldly offerings. So meeting once a week is purely for instruction and a reminder of who’s in charge? That seems kind of sterile. Or is God like your grandma on her birthday…it really doesn’t matter what gift you get for her, she’s just happy if you show up so she can see the whole family one more time. I welcome any thoughts on this matter.

So here’s the plan: to escape the psychological triggers of the Mass, I’m going to start attending non-Catholic churches for awhile. I have liberal politics, informed by my conscience and sense of justice, so I have limited my search to more inclusive churches. I don’t know much about Protestant churches, so I’ve been doing a bit of research to determine the liberal to conservative spectrum of various denominations.

My tentative plan, going into effect this morning is to start out as far as I think I can go, and work my way back to the more familiar. First stop, the Unitarian Universalists! In addition to being the most inclusive church I know, it may also be the best chance of my wife attending church with me. I suspect that it will ultimately be too wishy-washy for me, but I won’t know if I don’t go. Next week, I have a Presbyterian (USA) church penciled in, and the Lutherans (ELCA) are queued up after that."


When I originally posted this, I asked for suggestions of denominations that I might find to be plausible options. I was offered, among others, messianic Judaism, Quakerism(?), and pleas to avoid UU.

I attended one UU service a few days after the original post. I haven't had an opportunity to attend any other church due to the combined time commitments of a dissertation and the baby's needs. I will go back to UU for another try, just to flesh out my impressions a bit more. Here's how the first visit went:

"As it turned out, this wasn't the best week to visit the UU here in Ann Arbor. They were celebrating the new high school gradutes, and also the Coming of Age students--eight graders who had been individually mentored, taken special classes, and attended retreats. Each student gave a 4-5 minute talk called "Credo", outlining their beliefs as honestly as they could. Thus, I don't think that I got a realistic idea of how that community worships.

I arrived a few minutes early and walked through two hallways that were bustling with activities, including lots of people manning tables for various volunteer opportunities. Always a good sign. There was a tangible sense of warmth and community from the moment I entered the building. I took a seat in the back and flipped through the program, trying to figure out how they could pull off something as pluralistic as their mission statement declared.

The service began with a piano piece called "Tenderly", by Gross and Lawrence. It's a jazz piece, with no vocal accompanyment, and it left me a bit perplexed. I mean, I was a bass line away from thinking that "Whaddya Know" was about to begin. Then I noticed that there was a yard gnome on a table behind the lectern. When the piece ended, we were treated to "Pomp and Circumstance" as the high school graduates were introduced. Finally, the Senior Minister addressed the congregation. There was a lot of vague, "I'm glad you're here, and I hope that you're glad that you're here, too!". She was very nice. There were other events that involved a lot of clapping for people. Like I said, probably not the best day for my spiritual quest. The senior minister was like a cross between Diane Rheam and a happy Professor McGonagall. I kept waiting for her to just award the 50 points to Griffindor and be done with it.

Then, she lashed out. She said that most people think that UU means that you can believe whatever you want, which is demeaning and wrong. UU, she says, means that you are given the freedom and responsibility to figure out what you believe within a diverse community. She stressed the word responsibility a few more times. This was followed by the eight-graders' "Credo" readings. I stayed for about 9 of them. There wasn't a theist in the bunch, but there were two atheists, three humanists, two agnostics, one "Earth-centered", and one...well, I wasn't really sure what he was getting at. Interestingly, all but one used the expression "web of Life" in their talks, and most discussed the importance of interconnectedness of humanity. I got the sense that the kids were all being honest, which I thought was great, but I also suspected that they were, to some extent, being led by the nose by their mentors and peers as much as anyone in a more structured religion.

So, what I got out of my first go with the UU: I think I get what they stand for, but I don't know how they go about teaching it. I think it will take a few more visits to form a more fair opinion."