The Last Prayer

I don’t pray anymore.

I used to, though. From the time I was a little boy and was first taught about this God person entity being, I was taught the proper ways to address him. Er, Him. Head bowed, eyes closed. On your knees is good but not necessary. Out loud or to yourself, depending on the setting. Start with a nice greeting. “Dear...” followed by your title of choice. Lord. Heavenly Father. Or just plain old God. Give praise and thanks before you go asking for things so as not to seem like you’re mistaking God for Santa Claus. But definitely ask for things because everything comes from God, provided it’s His will. Just don’t go wasting God’s time asking for frivolous things, okay?

Among your entreaties don’t forget to ask for forgiveness for the sins you’ve committed. Even if you’ve been good, there’s something in there that needs forgiving, and the only one who can really forgive you in the saved-from-eternal-damnation sense is God Almighty.

Which brings us to salvation. How many hundreds of times must I have asked The Lord Above to save my soul? I was never 100% clear on the process. So I just ask Jesus to come into my heart? Like (gestures to chest) in here? Does he stay there or does he just clean me up and then go? And does this only cover sins committed to-date or am I covered for future sins as well? Do I have to keep doing this? I was never sure that I had done it right, so I repeated it, time and again. Salvation anxiety: it is real.

Once you’ve made it through all of your praises and givings of thanks and requests and your nine-thousand-four-hundred-and-seventy-third plea to be saved from burning in hell forever and ever and ever, bring it all to a close by stating in whose name you dare come before God (that would be Jesus’s), and then hang it up with a firm “Amen.”

I haven’t prayed in....a while. The short answer to the question of why I don’t pray anymore is that I don’t believe in God anymore. But even before I stopped believing, I had grown tired of that feeling that I was just talking to myself. I had grown so weary of never getting anything in the way of a response. A lot of people say that God and His answers to our prayers are all around us, even if we don’t recognize them, and that perhaps I should pray for eyes to see. A lot of people say that unanswered prayers are some of God’s greatest gifts. Well, I’m not a lot of people.

Some people want to define prayer a bit more loosely than the process I described above, which made sense. It’s just me and God, right? No need for all this ceremony. Some people want to talk about prayer like it’s meditation. Sitting still, quieting your mind, freeing your awareness to listen for God’s voice. But still, it all comes back to an attempt at communicating with an entity that is invisible, inaudible, odorless, flavorless, untouchable -- basically, a completely undetectable being whose entire presence is suspect.

“But God is all around us. God is in you and me and those kids and those old people and that tree and that dirt and that grass and that rock and that pitbull and, and....”

And what, Straw Man that I created and put words into the mouth of so I could get all huffy at it and it couldn’t respond? In what sense is God in those things? What reason do we have to believe that? And beyond that, if we’re busy trying to see God in everything, aren’t we sort of missing the thing itself in all its glory and wonder? Are those things only amazing and special and capable of taking our breaths away when we stop to really think about the fact of their existence if they’re somehow infused with this God of which you speak?

My answer is no.

Not praying has an interesting consequence, though. When confronted with a crappy situation about which I can do basically nothing, I’m left with little in the way of options. In the past, I could offer up a little prayer for the Lord above to intervene, somehow. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Now I don’t have that option. It would seem to do as much good as “sending good vibes” or whatever, a phrase I’ve been guilty of using, but which ultimately doesn’t do anything other than let the person on the other end know that I’m thinking about them and that I care. Which, I suppose, prayer does as well. If somebody says they’re praying for your situation, it’s just another way of saying that they care, and the fact that we believe differently in matters of God and religion becomes, in that moment anyway, tertiary.

So I don’t believe in God anymore and I don’t try to talk to him. Two connected facts of my person. I don’t remember what I said in my last prayer, but I sort of wish I could. It probably wasn’t anything special. But perhaps it should have gone something like this:

Dear God,

I don’t know why I’m doing this. I don’t even know...you’re not even listening, are you? You’re not even there to listen. I am literally talking to myself here, aren’t I? But I’m doing it anyway, so, I guess I’m saying this mostly for myself, and if by some chance you are there and you’re listening, then you’ll get the message too. Though that seems unlikely. I just want to say...look, I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. I feel like I’m fooling myself here, trying to talk to you, trying to listen, trying to discern your voice in everything. So, I’m not going to do this anymore, okay? If you’re there and you want to reach me for some reason, well, you’re God so you should know where to find me. Um, thanks, I guess.

Amen

Bingorilla

Crazy Shit

The day after Christmas, the Ash and I were fortunate enough to have a healthy dose of gifted cash burning a hole out of our collective pocket. Rather than let it escape into the hands of unworthy creditors, we decided to channel it into the coffers of a certain retail furniture establishment known for its flat-packed efficiency and myriad solutions for modern living. Having in mind that we would likely be buying something large in size, we borrowed the minivan owned and operated by Ash’s folks. Though a modern enough vehicle, it has no auxiliary input, which meant that the music on our iPhones was inaccessible, music that we carry around with us so that we won’t have to haul CD’s everywhere, which is why we had no CD’s with us, which is how we came to be listening to the radio. All the stations in town must have held a meeting wherein they conspired to play pure crap during this particular hour of the day, so we somehow ended up listening to a public access station that was broadcasting an interview with a British-sounding gentleman about his plans to clone Jesus Christ. Yeah, that one. Dude wasn’t kidding either. He had the whole thing worked out. It was too bizarre to turn off. Don’t ask me for specifics of his plan, I’m not the crazy British guy with the messiah clone plan, I’m just a guy who was riding in a van on his way to the local efficient living solutions outpost. He did mention hover-donkeys, I remember that much. The interviewer asked if he thought Jesus would be freaked out by the modern world and cars and stuff, and the guy said yes, cars would probably freak Jesus out, but we could explain to him that they’re basically like hover-donkeys. I think he was making an attempt at a joke, but when you’re talking seriously about cloning Jesus Christ, how can the rest of us be expected to know when you’re just kidding around?

For once, I didn’t feel ridiculous about constantly questioning what the hell I’m doing with my life.

People do this, you know. Spend their lives pursuing crazy shit. Sometimes that crazy shit works out and we get stuff like rocket ships and light bulbs. Other times, the crazy shit is completely wrong and ridiculous and you end up with people thinking vaccines cause autism or creationist museums. Or even worse, you get evil crazy shit. I’m looking at you, Hitler.

I know, I’m making the assumption that Jesus clone guy is going to fail. It could be that I’m just one of many millions of naysayers whose naysays will be waylaid when this dude brings about the second coming in his lab. I can live with that.

2009 has been the year I started learning to quit worrying about God. I dropped out of seminary in June, a move that felt as right as the decision to enter in the first place. I can’t quite call myself an atheist now, but I can say that I’m through chasing after a connection to this invisible whatever that I thought I had at one time. Maybe I did have such a tie at some point, or maybe I just had a certain set of chemicals processing through my nervous system that I interpreted as feeling spiritual. Or maybe both. Since then, I’ve felt as unburdened as I have disoriented. Either way, I’m done with trying to find a way to believe in something that all my senses tell me just isn’t there. And while it might seem to be a position of indecision, it feels pretty good from here.

Now hover-donkeys, on the other hand, I can believe in.

Happy New Year, All. 

No Roof

My dreams usually leave me shortly after I wake. The imagery may be fresh in my mind when my eyes first blink open, but no matter how vivid it was, it's often gone by the time I let the dogs out for their morning bladder relief. So when any part of a dream sticks with me, I tend to take note. “Hey dream, you’re still here. Aren’t you gonna run off with all your buddies?”

A couple of nights ago, I had a dream where I lived in a house with a sprawling backyard. It wasn't even a yard, actually, it was a massive clearing bordered on all sides by dense tall-treed forest. In the dream, it was night time, the sky blue-black like a fresh shiner. On one end of the clearing stood another house, and on the other end stood a small church. Both of these buildings were on our property, and both were missing their roofs. I walked into the house to find everything, the phone, the electricity, even internet, working just fine. I don't remember going into the church. But then it occurred to me, “jeez, I just need to get a roof on these buildings and they’ll be good to go. Just think of all the cool shit we could do with ‘em. Think of the parties we could have. We’re talking gatherings of Roman orgy proportion here. Am I really going to let a couple of missing roofs stand between me and a Roman orgy?”

The temptation for me, at first, is to seek meaning in this. What means ye by these night visitations, Sandman? What do the topless house and church represent? An inability to find security anywhere? Unfinished business in different realms of life? Lack of roofing skill?

But then I roll my eyes at myself, or rather, at my inner Jungian, what with his archetypes and his shadows and his dream symbology. Why this pressing need for meaning? Fuck meaning (but do it meaningfully).

I recently withdrew from the seminary where I had been pursuing a Master’s degree in counseling. In my letter, I cited a desire to spend more time with my family as the reason. And while this is certainly part of it, it’s not the whole of my motivation. I’ve simply reached a point where I don’t feel like I belong there, so much so that it would be a charade to continue. I’d be lying. Playing a role. I went there in the first place, in part, to labor on some of my questions pertaining to God and my spiritual life, and labor I did. I sort of wonder if I didn’t subconsciously know that I was going to end up where I am now. It’s a bit depressing, thinking that perhaps I wasted a lot in this pursuit...time, money, energy...and not just my own. And now I’m back here, no real thought for what I want to be when I grow up. I’d always wanted to do something meaningful. But maybe it’s like I said before: fuck meaning.

A church with no rooftop. A vast open clearing. A forest. A roofless house in which everything works.

So now I’m here. I’m a dad, a husband. I’m some people’s friends, other people’s employee. Sometimes I write stuff. Sometimes I make comics. I go to work, I play with my boys, I watch movies with my wife. I try to exercise. I spend too much time deciding which kind of beer to buy. For the last month I’ve been an actor in a play that will open tomorrow night. The question of what I want to be when I grow up is shifting in my mind. As immature as I can be at times, I am grown up, and I’m doing a lot of the things I want to be doing. True, I'm doing some things that I don't want to be doing, but most of those, ultimately, are responsibilities borne out of doing other things I do want to do. I may not want to wash the diapers at 11:30 at night, but I do want to be a dad. It may not be what pays the mortgage, but I’m doing it. And I’ve still got my dreams.

Messiah Bling and other Religious Hilarity

The seminary that I've been attending for the last couple of years must be peddling student contact info. How else to explain how I got on the mailing list of the people trying to sell this shit:

That's right y'all, 24 karat gold diamond* encrusted sandals, just like the Son of God wore back in the day. Motherfucker walked on water in those things. Maybe you can too!

Oh, and I've been meaning to post this one for a while. Remember back in high school when military recruiters seemed to be coming out of the woodwork trying to get you to sign up to do your duty to God and country? Did you think that all ended after you graduated? Well guess again. Check out what I found in my campus mailbox my first semester:

I had no idea that the military's marketing and recruitment budget included an allotment for the chaplaincy corps, but apparently it does. My brain is coming up with all manner of snarky commentary to type here, but I feel like the picture kind of speaks for itself. What do you see? Some pretty flowers.

So speaking of seminary......I don't know that I'm going to continue my studies with them. I'm realizing more and more that I simply don't belong there. I've written here before about why I chose to attend there, one of which was to grapple with some of my Big Questions about God, religion, the whole bag. And it seems that in that grappling, a few things have happened.

1. It's all started feeling more and more like a house of cards. It seems that the more we delved into topics like the origins of scripture and the beginnings of Christianity, the less divine the whole picture appeared. At every step of the way it seems, there's someone, some group, with an agenda, one which they promote by means of imbuing events and people with divine status, fitting events of their present into prophecies of their past. And it's not like we were studying anti-religious texts, and it's not as if I stepped onto campus thinking that the Bible was the literal word of God, but I didn't quite expect to find out just how much politics went into the creation of the text we now have, even before King James got his royal hands on it.
   
2. I grew tired of it. The whole thing. I'm just sick to death of all the questions, the seeking, the wondering, the quest for meaning, trying to be close to a God that, if he does exist, doesn't really seem to want to be found. I can't live like that. I just want to live my life, be myself, be happy, love my family and friends, write, create, and do the right things because they're the right things to do. I'm tired of putting so much effort into trying to feel IT. Time was I did feel it. I felt something anyway. I don't know if it was a delusion or if it was real but fleeting, but whatever it was, I'm sick of trying to get it back at the expense of the now, the moment. The meaning is right here. I just want to be.
   
3. And ya know, let's face it. I suck at being religious. I can't go to church. I've got a foul mouth, a sick sense of humor, and a taste for beer. Personally, I believe that if there is an all-seeing, all-knowing, all-loving God out there, then he, she, or it loves all this stuff about me. But I'm tired of thinking about it.
   

So that's me, that's where I'm at. I think I fall under the heading of an agnostic, but honestly, I don't even fucking care. I'm not mad at God or the church or whatever, I'm just kinda done. For now anyway.

Anyway, uh, Happy Easter?

* Yes, I know it says they're crystals and not diamonds, but "diamond encrusted" just sounds better.

Me and Religion: A Post in Two Parts

So a bit of background first: I wrote the first part of this post back around September or October, several weeks into my most recent semester at the seminary. I set it aside, fully intending to finish it, but never got around to it. Honestly, I think I've been avoiding it. I've opened it up a few times over the last couple of months and thought to myself, "you know, Holmes, you really ought to finish that." And then I'd close it. I wrote it during a time when I was pretty depressed, which is perhaps another post all on its own. But now the semester is over, and I think it's time to revisit it, if for no other purpose than as an exercise in self-exploration. Having said that, this might be kind of long, sooo, yeah, do as you will. I'll indicate where the old text ends and the new text begins.

So I don't really know if this is "ha ha" funny or "oh hey what a surprise" funny or "I think I'll go be a super villain now" funny. But in whatever sense, it's funny. To me anyway. So to recap, I'm in my third semester at seminary, the goal of which is to move into the counseling field. I chose the seminary for several really good reasons:

1. I fully believe that the spiritual side of the self is of great importance to many people's mental health and well-being, and so I wanted to be able to at least talk about it when and if it ever comes up. Not that everyone in the world is Christian, but rather that Christianity is one vehicle, a language, a symbology, through which to try and make sense of the divine. And it's a vehicle whose language I am somewhat familiar with. So it's a place to start.
2. The decision to move into this field had a lot to do with something of a spiritual renewal of my own, though it was one that was fraught with questions. Thus, I wanted to put myself in an environment where I could grapple with these questions. I wasn't looking to be spoonfed easy answers - I just wanted a place where I could struggle with the questions, hopefully with other strugglers.
3. It's cheaper than UT or St. Ed's.

But now, here I am in my third semester at this place, and while I can definitely say I've learned a great deal about the theory and practice of the field that I intend to go into, I also find myself realizing that any and all concepts of an interventionist God that cares one iota about the human condition simply doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me anymore. I've held off on writing about this because I've been trying to identify a narrative to plot how I got from wherever I was to where ever I am. But I can't quite see it. It's like a book with a bunch of the pages ripped out.

So that was sort of unexpected.

I have made one decision though: I'm not going to run from this.

And with that, I stopped writing and the post sat idle. What follows picks up where it left off.

The questions are big, and not easily answered, perhaps not even answerable at all. Which then begs the question, do they even matter? Which, of course, is just yet another goddamn question. But I don't feel as if just walking off in disgust is quite the way for me to go. It's not as if the questions will just go away. I don't think humans are wired that way. And to stick with the metaphor, I have to wonder if much of the discomfort and unease that I feel is a result of the process of tearing out some of my old faulty wiring and looking for new ways to hook things up, a process that's been going on for a number of years now, and will probably continue for years to come, perhaps even until the day I die. Maybe that's life. Maybe that's the journey. Maybe it never makes sense, and we simply make peace with the fact that we just don't know, and that any one of us is just as likely to be as full of shit as the next person. To me, this inspires a sense of humility. Why doesn't it do that for everybody? Argh, more questions!

Maybe my problem is my perspective. I see a question, I feel the need to find its answer. If the answer is not forthcoming, then harumph and argh and well fuckall, etc. Sometimes, that is. Other times, I'm perfectly laid back enough to accept whatever. It could be, however, that the shift I'm making is larger and in a different direction than I expected. I definitely didn't plan to somehow become "more Christian." In a lot of ways, I haven't really felt Christian for quite a while, and that's only become more solidified over the past few months. But I've never before seriously considered that maybe, just maybe, This Is All There Is. But now I am. I'm not making that as a declaration. In fact, I'm running pretty short on anything much that I can declare. Instead, it's a new question, another one to toss in the old thought grinder for some mulling over for the next few...however long. Just another thing I just don't know.

In talking to a friend of mine about all this, she suggested an exercise to try to get at the heart of it, and it goes something like this: Ignoring external influences as much as possible, including other people's opinions, political leanings, religious background, etc, write down the things that you truly, deep down in your core, believe to be true. It'll probably only be a few things. Maybe even just one. You don't have to prove it, just state it. So here's mine, in no particular order:

1. Everyone who has ever lived and ever will live is capable of great good, unthinkable evil, and everything in between.
   
2. We are not the sole architects of our lives. We are born into situations with people and certain inheritances, and given certain advantages and disadvantages. Still, we encounter choices that are ours and ours alone to make.
   
3. Our lives and our decisions affect other people. Ignoring this fact causes harm.
   
4. The human race has discovered so much in its time, yet there is still so much we do not know and cannot presently explain. This fact should humble us each enough to treat others with respect.

So that's all for now. I imagine this list will evolve over the years. Perhaps it will grow. Maybe I'll find better ways to state things. Maybe some things will be shrugged off entirely.

And with that, I'm off to live life some more.

In your Jesus Christ meme

Tag. I'm it. It would appear that the Island Girl has tagged me to take part in the Jesus Christ meme. My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to name and explain five things that I dig about Jesus, Jesus Christ, Jesus H. Christ, or whichever name you prefer to call him by. And since I haven't rambled about religion and theology in a while, this seemed like a good excuse to do so. I'll just warn you right now, this will probably get rather long-winded.

So many directions to go with this one. Both my smartass side and my *ahem* serious side would like to weigh in. Take it easy fellas, you'll each get your turn....maybe. I guess if you were to categorize my relationship with Christianity, with religion in general, it would fall into the "love/hate" box, right alongside technology and Starbuck's. I find a great deal of beauty in a lot of the things that Christianity stands for...love, compassion, kindness, peace, etc. etc. But like many, I'm also turned off by the evil that has been and continues to be accomplished under its banner. But Jesus, and figures like him throughout the ages, are inspiring to me. They were the ones to face down those who would do evil in the name of something good, the ones who called for unity where most were looking for reasons to be divided, the ones who included all those that the world excluded.

Anyway, without further ado, here's a few things about Jesus found particularly appealing by an ex-Baptist ex-cult member semi-agnostic Episcopalian infrequent church attendee kinda into Buddhism current seminary student. Hmm. I don't seem to make much sense.

#1 - Blessed are the peacemakers - in word and deed, Jesus's message was always that peace was the way. Had he wanted to, he likely could have gathered together enough disgruntled followers to stage some kind of violent coup against the local Roman authorities. Of course, it would have certainly been quelled with brutal efficiency as Romans weren't known for fucking around, not in that sense anyway. Instead, he managed to leave behind a message and an example that has inspired many to combat violence and oppression with peace and understanding. It is unthinkable to me that somebody could claim to be a Christian and think that doing violence to another human being is right.

#2 - Love your neighbor as yourself - love in our culture is often categorized, compartmentalized, and placed into neat little color-coded boxes. You have your romantic love, your love between family members, parents and children, friends. And all these things are beautiful and real and part of life, but Jesus also talked about a type of love that extends beyond that, that is not myopic in its scope, and takes into account those who we don't know, those outside of our circle, our experience. He even went so far as to say that we should love our enemies rather than get caught up in hatred for them. On top of that, I think he understood the necessity of being able to love yourself. After all, you can't love anybody very well if you hate yourself.

#3 - Enigmatic storyteller - some of Jesus's parables are pretty straightforward, but others were less so. They kind of leave the hearer thinking, wondering, not necessarily spoon-feeding everything to you. It was as if he wanted people to think about what he'd said and draw their own conclusions.

#4 - Had love for the ghetto - or more to the point, the people living in it. He came from poor people, he spent a lot of time with poor people, seeming almost to favor their company, so much so that it's enough to make one wonder if perhaps he wasn't a bit suspicious of those with wealth and power.

#5 - Valued children in a time when they were nothing - children in Jesus's time were not particularly valued or protected the way they are today. They were free to be sold, enslaved, beaten, killed. They meant nothing. But he valued them. And that's cool.

One thing I almost included in this list was that, like many of the greats, Jesus was misunderstood, but really that's not something I actually dig. I mean, it may be cool for an artist to be misunderstood, but misunderstandings of Jesus, be they willful or otherwise, have led to tragic results. That could be its own dozen posts, hell its own blog...probably already is.

So there you have it, five things that I dig about Jesus, based on my understanding of him. Oh, and let us not forget about his totally awesome blog. Every time I see the title of his blog in my Google reader, I get that Soundgarden song "Jesus Christ Pose" stuck in my head, except the Chris Cornell in my head replaces the word "pose" with "blog."