Sometimes things just come to a head. Coincidence? Divine Intervention? Joel Osteen? Who knows?
Those of you who know me know my long-term and on-going struggle with organized religion. It began at about 5 years old when my atheist father and agnostic mother decided they had better send me for some religion. I'm not really sure why they felt the need, given their own lack of faith, but I was turned over to the Baptists for my spiritual education. Upon reporting to my parents that we had gone to old town Cottonwood to the Rialto theater and seen a movie in which a woman died in a snow-skiing accident and went to Hell, that was the end of the Baptist era. When next I attended, in fourth grade, I went to Methodist vacation Bible school with our babysitter, Margaret Hallman. She was an older lady who volunteered at the Methodist church in Clarkdale and my parents must have feared that if she had to choose between working for the Lord at vacation Bible school or working for us, the Lord might win, so off we went with her to church. I actually enjoyed that summer. The Methodists seemed to believe less in Hellfire and Brimstone and more in good works for the betterment of mankind. We saved pennies to buy chickens to send to starving families in Africa. I liked it. But summer ended and so did the churching. Throughout high school I attended Catholic church with the Ziemkowski family, they were worried about my soul and invited me every chance they got. I remember thinking that the Catholic faith wasn't doing much for their daughter's soul, but kept the thought to myself.
The Jehovah's Witness years were a trial. Not only for me, but for them I'm sure. I wanted to believe. I loved Daniel, oh, how I loved Daniel. I loved Ruby and Marilyn my home study teachers, I loved feeling like I belonged. But I couldn't believe. Hard as I tried, and Lord knows I tried. I could not see buying into a religion that has to publish other books to explain their interpretation of the Bible to you. Why not just study the Bible? Of course there were other more complex issues and disagreements, but what it boiled down to was that no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many book studies/home studies/watchtower studies/theocratic ministry schools I attended, it never touched my heart. Ruby, Marilyn, and Daniel touched my heart, but never the Watchtower Society.
Upon my departure from the Witnesses, and in a serious funk, I allowed my coworkers to drag me to a little storefront church with a minister fresh out of a Tennessee seminary. Man, could he preach. Man, oh man, could he preach. He spoke about modern day problems, many of the same ones I felt like I was having, and how having a little faith could help you through. Looking back, it had less to do with Jesus and more to do with my personal crisis and the force of Pastor Tim's personality. And forceful his personality must have been, and devastating my crisis certainly was, because in six short months with the storefront church, I was baptised. Two short months after that I took a job and moved to Tempe. I joined the same denomination of church I had been baptised by. The first time I attended, the pastor was a drone with no passion for what he was doing, and as I was leaving the service I picked up a copy of the articles of faith and realized that I agreed with absolutely none of them. Not a good sign. To say I lapsed would be the understatement of the century. I found other ways to cope with my personal hell, and none had anything to do with religion.
So now I am a middle-aged mom with two kids and no religion. My husband is an atheist. I don't have a huge problem with the IDEA of God, but I have serious problems with organized religion. And some organized religions have had a problem with me as of late. My son has joined Cub Scouts and must complete a faith component for his Arrow of Light. Where do we go for that? What pastor is there to consult? Where can we go and say, please help my child with this, because he loves to participate in Scouts, even though we will never return to your church? And why must we be looked down upon for raising the child to believe simply in the Golden Rule rather than the fear of damnation?
And then there's Joel Osteen.
I swear the man is stalking me. He's on the television when I wake up. He's on the bookshelf at the supermarket checkout. Heck, I was just flipping through channels looking for something to watch while cooking dinner, and there he was on 60 Minutes for goodness sake. And he scares me. There is a song by the country band Restless Heart that says, "I'm in an old familiar place, with an old familiar pain." And as Pastor Tim used to say, "I've got pain in places that aspirin won't touch." I have that weird feeling when I watch Joel Osteen, and much to my dismay I do watch him. Every Sunday morning. My spouse is horrified, and I have to laugh when he says he would prefer me to compulsively gamble than to turn religious. But Joel . . . the logical side of me understands perfectly that I have he touches on universal themes that all want to hear, the positive message that things will be better, that God has better in store for you, I understand that he is Gospel Lite, the Doctor Phil life coach/motivational speaker, rather than the ranting evangelist who stresses that yes, God is good, but also that we are all SINNERS. But Joel Osteen has done what none, and I do mean none, in the last fifteen years has been able to do. Make me feel half positive about religion, that there is some point to it. Make me feel that in spite of all the horrible mistakes I have made, and regrets I have (and they are legion), that if I could just summon up a mustard seed's worth of faith that maybe there is a bigger, better plan for my life. Maybe there are some blessings that could come my way. That some of what I pray for could come to pass. I can't decide whether Joel Osteen and his irrepressible hope is a blessing or a curse, or just another cult of personality. I'm waiting for a sign.
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