Did this bottle of glue ruin the author's relationship with God?
God Just Didn't Stick
There are a lot of things to read out in the Salon blog community. Thus far, I've only linked to Hyperbole. It's not that there isn't plenty of other decent stuff to read out there, it's just that I haven't found any of it to be essential reading beyond the context of the community in which it resides. That's not to diss anybody else's stuff; some of it gets pretty entertaining. It's just that my criteria for a link is, would the people I consider my primary audience care about those other blogs? Would it add anything to their lives by getting deeper into the Salon blog community? Thus far, the answer has been "no".
Until now. Fact is, Real Live Preacher is some of the most compelling writing I've read anywhere in a long time. There are a number of reasons for this, including the always-tasty notion of a person of faith questioning their faith. But more than anything, you will find excellent and simple writing. I urge anyone who reads the Pipeline to go check it out.
A recurring topic at RLP is, naturally, faith. The Preacher recently recounted his early dissonance with believing in God, but not believing in the Bible itself. He described his lack of faith in the Book as almost a gut reaction. I can relate to that.
I think people mostly come in three types when it comes to faith. Some people crave it, swallow it up whole. They are born to believe. Some people are just the opposite; the notion of God (and I mean Biblical God) just seems wrong from the get-go. And the rest of the people hang around waiting to figure out which of the first two groups they will join, if ever.
Capital "G" God never made sense to me. My parents were completely a-religious. Not of any faith, but also not Atheists or Agnostics. It just wasn't a part of our family at all. But that didn't stop them from feeling guilty about not exposing me to some form of religion, so when I turned five, they arranged for me to go to Sunday School at the church behind my house. I don't know the denomination...Methodist, perhaps?
For three straight Sundays, these nice old ladies would come to the house and walk me to the church, where I sat through art projects and Bible study and a lot of talk about God and miracles and Hell and such. The entire thing scared me to death. It wasn't just that they were talking about things I thought weren't possible. I knew, even at age five, that I wanted no part of it. Everything about it felt wrong to me. Of course, one could say that I just didn't allow myself to become educated, or to develop my faith. That could still be a true statement today. All I know is, it felt almost predetermined that I would reject what they were trying to teach me. At what age does a skeptic become a skeptic? In my case, five at the latest.
After the third Sunday, I told my parents I wasn't going to go anymore. They asked me why, and I really wasn't able to articulate my reasons. Looking back, I would have loved to bust out with a Lisa Simpson soliloquy about faith and skepticism and dogma, but neither I nor my parents would have understood that. I could have just said that it felt really weird and wrong and scary, but I didn't. Since I was a dumb five year old kid, all I said was that I was afraid I would get glue on my hands from doing the crafts, and that my hand would stick to the doorknob when I came home.
My parents didn't really know what to say to that, but they knew that I wasn't going to go back, and I have always been thankful that they never forced the issue. I think they felt they had done their part to expose me, and I didn't like it, so they were off the hook (if there was a hook, of course...). The church ladies came back for about a month afterwards. I heard them try to make my mom feel bad about not sending me, but she held firm for me.
I think most people are in-between on faith, really. They kind of want to believe, or kind of don't. But some people never have to be sold one way or the other. I was one of the ones who couldn't be sold on Biblical God. No way, no how. Some people are just wired that way, and hearing the Preacher talk about his early experience reminded me of my lame glue excuse all those years ago.
3:16:20 PM 
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