Sunday, December 21, 2008

On Faith

Faith is not something I often talk about. I'm the granddaughter of a Methodist minister, was raised Congregational and Episcopalian, spent 4 years at an Opus Dei Catholic School, socialize mostly with Atheists, Agnostics, and Jews, and thanks to the most recent wave of refugee resettlement in town, I work with a predominantly Muslim group of kids. I've seen quite a bit of religion and have never really taken to any of them.

When I was child, I remember talking often with God. God was like an imaginary friend - someone you just talked to that no one else could see. I didn't pray to God, I conversed. I talked about my day, had one way discussions on why world events were as they were, asked a couple of questions about Jesus, occasionally requested peace among family members. I played My Little Ponies with God sometimes. God was the only person I told about my secret metal box of treasures I kept in my closet in case the house burned down so I could grab it when I had to evacuate. I figured if anyone would remind me to take it, God would.

But I outgrew talking to God. At some point I started talking to myself instead. Not surprisingly, people react much more positively to children talking to themselves instead of "God". Too reminiscent of Joan of Arc, I guess. Also, God never talked back and I got a bit impatient with the one-sided nature of the relationship. God became this ridiculous part of my past - a figment of my imagination that I was foolish enough to believe in with my childhood naivete. By the time I was 15 I was a full fledged Atheist. The idea of a god or an afterlife seemed like the most ludicrous, arcane idea born of weak people who needed a fake higher cosmic being to give their lives meaning. I gave god away like everything else I'd outgrown.

I've been comfortable in my adult life vacillating between Atheism and Agnosticism. I've been confronted many times by people who believe that I must be without hope or inner peace as an Atheist, but I feel quite the contrary. When I, or others without organized religion, do good deeds, it's not because of Church doctrine or to get into an afterlife. It's a purely altruistic gesture. The more good I see done by Atheists, the more I can believe in the inherent goodness of humanity. I see people who choose a positive path because they want to, not out of fear of religious retribution. And that makes me happy and hopeful.

But I do miss the community that church provided. I miss singing on Sundays and smelling the lilies at Easter. I miss little kids dressed up for Christmas and bad pageants. I miss celebrating life with a room full of joyful people. I but I just can't consider myself Christian. I don't have those beliefs of the supernatural aspects in my heart and I would feel hypocritical and disrespectful to the congregation if I went to a service for the fun of it. I just don't believe in the idea of Jesus as anything other than a really good guy and grass roots organizer who made some pretty incredible changes in a corrupt society. And that supernatural belief in Jesus as the son of god seems to be a pretty fundamental Christian concept. It's non-negotiable to believers.

So today is the first day of Hanukkah, the Winter Solstice, and in a few days Christmas will come. I tend to celebrate all equally since I have friends of those faiths. Truth be told, I love Hanukkah. It's such a wonderful concept and the candles and latkes can't be beat. But again, I'm not about to call myself Jewish because I enjoy the ceremony of the holidays.

But this Christmas Eve, I believe I will attend a service at the local Unitarian Universalist Church. I've done a lot of research and I think it will be a good fit for me. Many people I've met who share my views of religion feel quite at home as UUers, and I'm excited to see what it's all about. It may be great, it may be uncomfortable. I don't know. but I'm looking forward to finding out.

So to all of my friends and families, no matter what you celebrate at this time of year, have a very happy holiday season. I wish you all love, laughter and light.

3 comments:

epb said...

A beautiful, moving piece of writing. I printed out a copy to save. Have a wonderful holiday, my dear friend.

Anonymous said...

Funny enough, before I read the penultimate paragraph, I was about to call you up and suggest the UU church. I think that would fit perfectly, as long as they have a good music program and plenty of kids at the one you chose. Hope all goes well! Enjoy the greens, lights and carols!

ajd said...

Did you have a good time?