man oh man

I totally forgot how much I love the movie Boondock Saints...

nuwsha

Due to my less than convential views on God and religion, I am often asked how I view things like rituals, and 'experiencing god.' It's not an easy questions to answer and I fear that I am rarely able to clearly articulate myself and that I often leave the asker of the question more confused and/or more concerned for my soul than prior to thier question. That all being said, I wanted to share one of my most recent 'knowing god exists' moments.

I see 'god' as a greater spirit that connects humanity and the other beings that share the Earth; and I see religions as humanity's ways to make sense of that spirit, as well as all of the unexplainable things that happen throughout our lives. Religion helps to provide order and understanding to our often overwhelmingly confusing existence. For me, the ultimate expression of this spirit, or of god is love. That all being said, I try to see and experience this greater spirit through everyday occurances and interactions. I look for the bits of the spirit in other humans, in random occurances, and through out the glorious creation by which we are surrounded. Alright, now that you've got the background, I'll move on to the story.

I work at a day care center when I'm not busy reading or studying or whatever. The day care was as close to tutoring as I could get and still get paid with work study money, and it's been great so far. It's actually quite nice to have a break from reading and talking about religion day in and day out. And it's hard not to relax a little bit when you hang out with and chase around kids who love to give you hugs and have you read to them. Unfortunately, last week, one of my favorite kids left (we'll call him Nuwsha).

His last day was Tuesday; his family was returning to India. Luckily, I worked a few hours on Tuesday and was able to spend those hours in his room, with some other great 2 year olds. Nuwsha has never been a really cuddly kid; while he would give hugs freely, he was never one to sit in your lap or hang out around any of the teachers for too long. He'd much rather be exploring. Tuesday was different. Nuwsha spent most of my 2 hours there hanging out with me. He sat on my lap fo 10-20 minutes at a time. And when he wasn't hanging on me, he was generally sitting next to me or trying to tell me for the umpteenth time that there was a truck on the other side of the play ground fence. More than any of this there was a point when we were all playing inside and he climbed behind me, wrapped his arms around my neck, pressed his head against the side of mine and began swaying me back and forth. He was smiling and giggling all the while. I've never seen him do such a thing, though I'm sure he has. I was so touched by his overwhelming cuteness and his joyous spirit (and my own sadness at his leaving) that I began to tear up. It was almost like he knew how much I would miss him, or that he knew I'd been stressed out, or that he was even going to miss me too. I am not one to say that god was acting through Nuwsha, or that the spirit was trying to send me a message. However, Nuwsha's actions that day were a reflection of the beautiful spirit that rests within him, and were a reflection of the amazing power and gloriousness that I believe each human contains. Nuwsha was just my reminder that there is more to each of us than meets the eye and that each person is blessed in a greater spirit.



Any questions?

just for fun

Let me tell you a story

So, I have so issues with organized religion and I believe that those issues are very well founded. Maybe I'll go into that list in some other post, but the specifics aren't important to the story I'd like to share. Even though these issues exist and my faith beliefs are very broad and open minded, I felt called to attend a Divinity School for my masters. I chose a school that was relatively liberal, had a social justice background, and gave me a large sum of money. When I visited I made quite clear my views on religion and my beliefs, and I was encouraged and told that I would be a great addition to the existing environment. The story I would like to share is one that in which it was made pretty damn clear that my viewpoints were not really acceptable, at least to one prof.

All Divinity students have to go through this psuedo class that is meant to help us get acllimated and help us deal with any of the weird shit that comes to the surface when you decide to go to school to study religion in all it's manifestations for three years. Sounds like a pretty good concept if you ask me...at least as first. The first of these 'classes' is meant to help us develop our voices in telling our own stories, so we break into four groups to tell our relatively new classmates the stories of how we came to be at Vanderbilt. Simple assignment, no? The problem develops as each of my classmates tells their story, each one is couched in a "God spoke to me" or "God moved me" or "God called me" statement. There was even a sign given through the scales of a fish. While I can respect these stories, mine does not share such an epiphany moment, or even the idea that God spoke to me. While I do feel led here, I would not say that 'God' brought me here. I feel drawn by something greater than humanity, maybe we should call it the spirit, just for simplicity sake, and I feel that I here on the earth at this time to try and make this world a more just place. For me, that search for justice is tied to the believe in that greater spirit that unites humanity. I know it's a little new agey for a lot of folks, but deal, this is my blog and my life (I will always gladly entertain questions, but I will ignore attacks and conversion attempts).

Anyway, so everyone's telling their stories and talking of their shared belief in the Christian God...and then there's me. I waited until last because I really didn't want to go, and that sinking feeling grew with each new story. Now mind you, after each person has told his or her story the prof. (a Methodist Bishop), has thanked them and affirmed them...something along these lines "thank you for sharing your story, I'm thankful that God brought you hear." Hopefully you can get the dirft.

So, it's my turn, I have about 3 minutes until we have to gather again as the big group, I'm upset, and I try to start talking...and my eyes well up. In case you don't know me well...I do not cry in public, I hate being vunerable, and I hate crying. So, I'm trying to explain by personal aversion to organized religion, my belief in a greater spirit that connects us all, and the fact that I have no interest in preaching, that I would love to teach and do social justice work. Unfortunately, because I'm upset, it is not coming out as well as it should and everyone's either looking at me with pity or confusion or both. I kind of wrap up without really explaining a whole lot and the Prof/well respected Bishop says to me..."Thank you, maybe you were led here to find the things that you've been missing." Not only was I not affirmed, but I was spoken to as if I was lacking because I have differing views. This in a graduate school that requires the use of inclusive language in classrooms and class work and that touts it's diversity and social justice focus.

I am not missing anything. I am not here searching for the 'real' god or the 'real' church, I'm here to learn, here to develop, and here to teach. I am not looking to be saved, but it is quite clear that people here are looking to save me.