Conversations with Ourselves: Making Sense of It All

Throughout this series the core theme I want to get across is the importance of asking questions. Questions allows us to explore and create within our vast universe. And as we explore, our interconnectedness to each other and the universe is strengthened. But living with all these questions rattling around in your head can be unnerving especially when you're trying to make sense of it all. On the surface, questions don't offer an immediate peace of mind. This is why people gravitate towards religion which offers answers to many of life's questions. I'm OK with religion being used in this manner even though some would say it is a crutch. Sometimes life is too hard to deal with and there is no shame in believing in something to help you through life's obstacles. What I am against is people bashing others in the head with their "crutch". You can't serve love on a plate of hate.

So how do we make sense of it all? How do we make sense of life with a bag of unanswerable questions or, worse yet, questions which leads to other questions? What has helped me in my personal journey is coming to terms with the chaos of life and knowing that we are already There.



People desperately seek out a constant state of happiness, they want to know that everything will be OK. They want the assurance that nothing will go wrong, they want control over the future. But no matter how hard you struggle no one's future is ever secured. (And in terms of Christianity and the afterlife, no knows for sure that they will go to Heaven, they can only hope and believe they will.) So what then? Do we go through life a nervous wreak waiting for the axe to fall at any moment? That would be as pointless as a dog chasing its own tail! Once we come to the understanding that life is full of chaos and we stop trying to control the uncontrollable we can begin living. Shit happens. Life is full of ups AND downs. Instead, we should surround ourselves with good friends and family to celebrate the ups and to comfort each other during the downs.

It is easier, and much more interesting, for me to live with the questions than accept a prepackaged answer. Questions help you connect with the world around you, they help you to grow spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. They help us to discover and embrace our humanity more fully. So sit back relax with a few good friends and enjoy the moments we have on this pale blue dot.

Part 1) Conversations with Ourselves: The Question
Part 2) Conversations with Ourselves: The Internal Struggle
Part 3) Conversations with Ourselves: The External Struggle
Part 4) Conversations with Ourselves:  Reflections on Who We Were
Part 5) Conversations with Ourselves: Making Peace with Chaos
Part 6) Conversations with Ourselves: Making Sense of It All

You've Changed

A big thank you to Andrew Hackman of Hackman's Musings for sharing this recent cartoon by nakedpastor (seriously can't believe I haven't subscribed to his RSS feed. Subscribed!).

[You've Changed by David Hayward]

I've gotten the You think too much and you read too much the most when I speak to others about my deconversion. Although, I would rather describe it more of discovering my own journey than a deconversion. I was never converted to Christianity in the first place (I was one of the lucky souls born into the faith) and there was no single moment where I abandoned Christianity cold turkey. This cartoon vividly describes my departure from the church. I believe if we look beyond the snappy one liners we'll find the pain of separation beneath and in between the statements. Anyone who's left the church (or any faith) can attest it is a painful experience to wrench yourself from your community, friends, and family. Those left behind feel betrayed, and the one leaving feels alone, exiled, without a home. It's not an easy decision that many are willing to make, yet feel they must to feel true to themselves.

I remember one conversation I had with my wife about my change of faith when I had an epiphany and I freely admitted I could not pray without feeling I was somehow lying. I had convinced myself for months I could stay in the church and go through the motions only to realize in the end I would  be lying to everyone around me. This doesn't mean I refuse to go to church if invited. I would bow my head out of respect and reverence but I would not be praying to any god. I pray with my kids at night and during meals because we had decided to raise the children Southern Baptist. I keep my beliefs to myself unless asked directly.  So when I have these types of interactions with believers I don't take it personally anymore because even the beliefs and ideas I hold now are subject to change.

It is not an easy decision to step away from any community. And as someone who thinks too much I thought about this constantly before making any public declaration on straying from the fold. The fact that we ("the straying sheep") thought about the social ramifications means we do care. Our ties to family, friends, and to our community and roots are very important, but so is our personal quest of self discovery. When I left the church it wasn't because I was being led astray by the devil or that I love sin too much. I left the cackle of voices telling me how to be human and set out on a journey to experience my humanity. I had questions to ask and wrestle with and no environment in which to tackle these questions. Some would ask "why ask these questions in the first place?" and then go on to show me their bag of answers.

I'm not looking for easy answers, I'm looking for questions that will last a lifetime answering.

I'm looking to discover myself in others and others in myself.

I'm looking to simply be.

Incuriosity

Daniel Florien from Unreasonable Faith shared this interesting quote a few weeks ago by Stephen Fry.

"The only reason people do not know much is because they do not care to know. They are incurious. Incuriousity is the oddest and most foolish failing there is."

—Stephen Fry, The Fry Chronicles

[ Marks at Parent Teacher by David Hayward, The Naked Pastor. If you haven't visited his site or seen any of his art or cartoons then you're missing out.]

To play a bit of devil's advocate I would add some people may not have the time or luxury to be curious. I'm extremely curious and love exploring new ideas and concepts but I barely have time to even blog let alone time to myself for imagination and curiosity. Regardless I still agree that you must have a thirst for knowledge to be knowledgeable. What bothers me the most are so called experts on a topic in which they've only studied the facts that support their own claims (e.g. the "experts" proclaiming in 2010 that Muslims are attempting to take over America with mega mosque training camps). I love wrestling with  questions, especially questions I myself can not answer. I love it when I come across a new term or idea I've never heard before.

I can't imagine not being curious, not asking questions even of beliefs I (currently) hold to be true. I don't question my traditional religious backgrounds to be rebellious, because I love sin, or because I hate God and Christianity. I continuously question everything because I find it more spiritually rewarding. When I use the term spiritual I use it to describe my humanity, my humanness, my weaknesses and my strengths, all that makes us human. I believe we are born curious (note the word believe) and that as we grow we are raised to avoid asking certain questions and avoid giving certain answers to our children. If I don't know an answer to a question my children ask of me I tell them there are some things daddy just doesn't know. So then we sit down and try to discover the answer together.

What I believe people fear the most is not so much the mental taboo of asking difficult questions but what to do with the new knowledge once Pandora's box is opened. I can't unlearn that men of the church, not God, decided which books were to become the Bible. The mere notion that there were other possible book candidates for the Bible must be mind blowing enough for any regular church going Christian. It's easier to not ask certain questions, to not open certain door which may lead us to doubt. But then avoiding questions I believe stagnates spiritual (there's that word again) growth. I'm not saying that questioning your religious traditions and background will lead you directly into the pit of Atheism, but asking questions will lead you to discover a bit more about who you are and our relationships with each other.

Try Jesus

During my free time if my nose is not buried in a book (currently reading The Truth by the Oracle Institute) then I'm busy scouring the net for religious documentaries. Yesterday I happen to stumble upon one from January 15,1998 (yeesh, I was 13) on Fundamentalist Christianity. Louis Theroux's Weird Weekends was a documentary series on BBC 2, which ran from 1998-2000, which presented the lives of groups and individuals the viewer wouldn't normally come in contact with on a daily basis. Fundamentalist Christianity may not be as prevalent in the U.K. (if existent) but if you live in the Bible Belt it's the norm. You can watch the entire program here.

There really isn't an easy way to interview a conservative or Fundamentalist Christian without either offending them or being put in an awkward situation. Louis, unlike other documentary filmmakers, not only respectfully tiptoed around potentially heated conversation but willingly put himself in dreadfully awkward situations for the experience. He interviewed Marcus and Joni Lamb of Daystar Television Network, witnessed with members of The Family (now known as Family International) in Deep Ellum entertainment district, and concluded by going to hear Marcus Lamb speak at a revival. All throughout the documentary you can tell Louis, who's a non-christian by the way, wanted to say more but held his tongue. His mission, in part, was to see if he could be converted, and not 4 minutes into the program and Louis was already asked if he wanted to be born again. He just didn't get IT, and you can see how badly the Christians wanted him to understand how easy it was to accept Christ.

Growing up as a Christian I never felt the anxiety Louis felt towards the end during the altar call because I had IT. Whatever IT was, I had IT. It came naturally and I didn't have to struggle to understand IT. I didn't have to make a choice to accept Jesus into my heart because he was already there. But as I came to learn more about the world, other religions, as well as the history of Christianity (which the version of Christian history I grew up with was extremely sugar coated) I had lost IT. Was I thinking too much? Did I choose not believe? Did I allow the evils of knowledge and science to overwhelm my faith in Christ? No, I never made any conscious effort to leave God nor do I believe that using the fullest potential of our minds is cause for loss of faith. I just didn't feel IT, and nor did Louis at the revival. He wanted to believe, to feel something, the intent was present but there was nothing. So what happens to Louis, or more importantly, what's going to happen to me? Did we fail because we chose not to believe, or did we fail because we didn't feel the Spirit? Does choosing to believe come before the entrance of the Spirit, and if our salvation is dependent on that initial choice what governs the process of making that initial choice? Our heart, our mind, or something else?

Reading through the comment section at Documentary Tube I came across an interesting comment. Here's a snippet.

"Yet, he had not the courage to even try an altar call…hmmm, must have scared him. Curious, if it has that power, then it has substance, no?"

I don't believe it was fear that kept Louis from "trying" the altar call but he wanted to be sincere about accepting Jesus. If he tried Jesus, tried the altar call, he would essentially be lying if he didn't feel anything. If you want to be cynical about it you could say his nervous appearance was merely theatrics, a show, and this is very possible. But for the everyday person seeking the Divine and struggling to find it within a particular belief system, this may be a dire realistic situation for the seeker. They may choose to seek and reach out but if they do not feel the connection the seeker is blamed.

It seems as if it all boils down to choice, but if given the choice to be with the Divine or become eternally separated from IT, who in their right mind would actually choose the latter? And if we do make the wrong choice, based on whatever reasoning, how can anyone label an eternity of suffering as divine justice for making a wrong choice as fallible creatures? This is why I can not accept that the Divine is accessible through only one avenue of revelation. What works for you may not work for me. This does not dilute the value of your connection because it STILL works for you as mine works for me. As long as the connection is there, it doesn't matter how you approach the Divine.

The Security of Answers

My journey these last 4 years began as a search for answers to questions which rocked the foundation of my spirituality. Ironically, this quest began in part as a search to stabilize my beliefs soon after my wife and I found out she was carrying our first born. Life changing news spawned a life changing journey. I did not choose to "lose my faith" as some have claimed, no more than I enjoy the arguments and shattered hearts of friends and family caused by the fallout. All I sought was what billions of people seek everyday: security of answers to a chaotic life.

[Stumbled upon this site which allows you to create your own church sign via RNS.]

Many would claim that the journey is noble but the information obtained along the way is flawed. Believers are accepting of open-minded seekers as long as they're open-minded about their specific beliefs (while rejecting all others). Any unorthodox questions are seen as unnecessary and at times dangerous. Why? Because some questions may cause us to doubt the very foundation of truth we stand upon as Christians, Muslims, Jews, etc. So apologetics buttress their religion with evidence which, with a pinch of reason and logic (not too much though), becomes their main pitching points to converting the curious spiritual traveler. Yet the traveler is not let off the hook that easily, it's not a matter of simply choosing one over the other based on evidence. Each religious vendor is secure that all the "Others" are selling you an inferior product. The vendor becomes bewildered, distraught, and at times explosive for brushing away their foundational truth.

People who claim to be spiritual but not religious, like myself, are not looking for a set of answers or a path to follow, but an experience. This experience can be found in religion but is not exclusive to religion, nor even one specific religion. Religious believers would argue otherwise, because, in my humble opinion, they are so rooted in their experience they can't imagine experiencing the Divine in any other language (i.e. religion) especially when spoken by the Other, the Enemy. Believers connect with each other through images, symbols, language which all point to That, the Unnameable. Yet many of us feel there is much more beyond our set of symbols which I believe is currently reflected in the recent PEW study on religion among the Millennials (us young kids born after 1980). Millennials crave connection, interaction, and experience which is greatly reflected in our culture, media, technology, and points of intersection (e.g. online social networks). This overwhelming desire to be connected with others break down all sorts of walls carefully constructed by mankind's darkest fears. There is no longer any need to fear the outsider because there is NO OUTSIDER, there is no They. There is no longer any need to fight over resources because we have enough to go around (although our fears keep us from sharing). This amazing embrace of the outsider, the Other, the "enemy" decimates our need to cling desperately to the answers we absorbed in our culture, society, and Sunday school.

Homosexuals aren't out to destroy marriage.
Muslims aren't out to conquer Christianity.
Atheists aren't out to kill God.

They're people too! They bleed, cry, breathe, walk, and talk like us. When we liberate ourselves from the need to feel secure by our bag of answers we are free to comfort one another. By admitting we don't have all the answers we can lean on one another through this chaotic life. I don't put my security in answers I put my security in questions, because when we wrestle with the questions our collective consciousness evolves. When we stop asking questions, we stop learning, we stop growing, we stop loving.