A Letter to Dad

Dear Dad,

5 years seems like a long time not to see you. Memories aren't as clear as they were, and more of our past conversations seem to be lost in the midst of new memories taking their place. I still miss you greatly and think of you daily. I like to think that there's alot you'd be happy to see in the lives of your children and grandchildren. Today, though, as I remember your last day on earth, spent preaching to inmates in a Missouri prison, I wonder what you'd think of my spiritual struggle of the past 3 years. You are the one family member who I know asked many of the same questions as me and read a great deal yourself on many of these topics. Even now, sitting on your bookshelves in your office at home I see half a shelf dedicated to the question of whether there is a God. And not all the books are from the believing side, such as Bertrand Russell's book, "Why I Am Not a Christian."


I'd like to ask you why you continued your whole life in the commitment to God and Christianity within the churches of Christ. Despite the absence of your dad, your poverty in childhood, the cancer and heart attack that took you way too soon, you dedicated yourself to a life of serving God and others. What answers did you come to about suffering in the world, about eternal hell for so many, about confusing, inconsistent, and unsupported Biblical passages? Why did you decide that there is a God who is good and personally intervenes in our lives?


My guess, from comments I remember you making over the years would be something like the following: I know you admired the type of woman your mom is, who worked hard to keep her family together and sacrificed greatly for it. You probably decided that her strong faith in God is what caused her to endure abuse and poverty without self pity and live with hope and determination. I imagine you found that an example worthy of imitation. I also remember you telling me a story about finding bags of groceries on your doorstep, right when you needed it. I know you also got advice from a mentor at church to attend college to be a preacher, which led you out of a life of factory work at Ford's or Borden's and into your eventual vocation as a principal. I imagine you felt God at work during these times, though you may never have understood where he was during the difficult periods. From a talk we had while you were receiving cancer treatment, I know you wondered why you got sick while your older, alcoholic brother who has greatly mistreated his body remains cancer free. You spent your days focused on others, while he does not. However, I also know you remained grateful for your life and you refused to pray for God to heal you. You figured he'd keep you around for the right amount of time. I wonder if now you would say there is no more need for you on this earth. I, personally, would beg to differ. I don't know how much Biblical studies or scientific evidence played a role in your religious beliefs and faith. I'm sure to some extent they must have. However, I believe that our personal experience also plays a major role in understanding spiritual matters. In order to function in the world, we have to find a way to make sense of our experiences. I think religion offers a way to make sense of this world and to give us guidelines or rituals for navigating through it. I think you experienced the Christian worldview as offering hope for a better future in the afterlife, given this world's unfairness and suffering, and I think you believed your Christian lifestyle spread more goodness and mitigated more suffering for yourself and others than if you had embraced non belief.


In response, I would say that I certainly was blessed by your life and the example you provided. I and my character are better for it. I had a positive experience with Christianity growing up and watched you live what you taught me. I learned from you that Christianity can work beautifully and lead to a life of caring for others, in deep and sacrificial ways. That's the rub for me, really. After the studying I've done thus far, my conclusions don't support the Christian faith that I've experienced as a positive force in life. I don't see support for a great deal of the doctrines and historical underpinnings for Christianity, though living the Christian life and being connected to a Christian community has largely been a blessing to me. I'm feeling somewhat stuck about this. I may never reach a conclusion, though I would certainly like to do so. This world with its relentless and needless suffering and confusion over the nature of God isn't the way I'd imagine it would be with a loving, omnipotent God in control. On the other hand, there's a great number of transcendent experiences to explain as well as a great deal of goodness and love for a meaningless and moral neutral universe.


I wish we could be having this conversation in your living room after everyone else has gone to bed, as we use to do. I'll just have to imagine you sitting there patiently in your recliner, and see where that takes me.


Love,

Your Ever Wondering Daughter

A Weekend of Firsts

This weekend I experienced two firsts: purchasing a puppy and racing in my first
5K. Perhaps it was not the best weekend to buy a puppy. Last night, we listened to whining and barking a good bit as we are crating her til she is house trained. At the 5K today, my oldest wanted to leave a few times to go check on his new pet. Though I'm really a cat person, even I am really enjoying our latest addition. She's a beagle/terrier mix, so she's small enough that I am comfortable with her. She's affectionate, smart, and reasonably interested in obeying. She's already trained us to hang out more in our kitchen area as we're not letting her in any other room of the house til we know she's fully house trained. I have learned that raising puppies and running in 5K races have a couple of things in common: they require lots of energy and determination. You may feel like giving in or giving up, but it's worth it to hang in there.

I have a really positive first 5K experience. I attended a race that also had a 1 mile fun run as well as activities for the children and a cookout. The boys enjoyed the moon bounce, slide, cotton candy, and ice cream. My husband and I joined our boys in the fun run following my race. My oldest enjoyed racing, though he walked most of it. He surged ahead at the end and beat my youngest by about 20 seconds. This is probably why my youngest said the race was too long and "dumb." And he's my athletic son who usually loves races.

I was amused that I was actually a bit nervous before the race. It's not as if I was trying to win anything. I suppose any competitive event where I am being observed by others is bound to create a little anxiety. At the beginning of the race, I wished I wasn't running alone, but I soon set my pace and maintained my usual rhythm, which helped calm my nerves. It was obvious that I was pushing myself a bit harder, as my thigh muscles nearly felt numb by the end of the race. There were two women who kept at about my pace, so I used them as motivation to push myself a bit. I thought it would be a small victory to pass them both, but I only managed to pass one. Ultimately, I ran the race in 34:35. I finished 11 out of 26 for my age group (the nearly over-the-hill category). I won't win any gold medals, but I am pleased to have actually completed a 5K! Especially considering that earlier this summer, I could barely jog a mile without slowing to a walk and laboring to catch my breath. Next on my lists of firsts: The Warrior Dash.

Impermanence

Today I've been thinking about impermanence. Today my youngest son started kindergarten. No more toddlers or preschoolers in the home. No more little ones at home to shadow me through the school day. I was a bit nostalgic this morning, reminiscing to my boys about the day the oldest one began kindergarten. Tonight in yoga we were asked to be aware of impermanence throughout our practice as we moved in and out of positions. Every breath, every stretch, every muscle pain, fleeting and temporary. Though some moments seem to last too long, like headstand poses, or for my oldest son, a school day, which lasted "a million years," others fly by when we want to hold on them, like my youngest wanting to hold my hand or kiss me "100 times" before letting me leave him at school. It's such a challenge to breathe through the unpleasant moments, reminding myself that they won't last forever while enjoying the pleasant ones without trying to make them stretch out past their healthy lifespans. My own faith journey has been one of accepting impermanence. Former beliefs exchanged for new ones which may be replaced a year from now. We are not wired to accept impermanence, at least not as adults, which is ironic given the impermanence in which we are steeped. It's a constant challenge for me to rest easy in an awareness of impermanence. What about you? Are there areas where you embrace impermanence?

Healthier Habits

Right now I’m on my way home from a trip to St. Louis, a preplanned time to visit with family and let the boys experience Six Flags for the first time. Last week we made an unplanned visit up to St. Louis to attend the funeral of my brother-in-law, the husband of my husband’s sister. His wasn't in the best of health, though we weren’t expecting the heart attack that led to his death. His passing has made me more reflective about my own lifestyle and inherited propensities for illness. Heart disease and cancer both run in my family and I’ve already had two precancerous spots removed from my skin. This past year I’ve allowed increased work and increased blogging(!)to interfere with pretty good eating and exercise habits.

In addition to my brother-in-law’s death, I’ve been inspired by D’Ma’s post on the couch-to-5K program she’s begun. While I’m taking on the 5K challenge myself, I’m also returning to the activities I really enjoy the most: yoga and biking. I’ve also resumed strength training. My body is most fit when I incorporate a variety of exercises. I’ve joined my husband in entering calories into MyFitnessPal (there’s an app for that!). The great (and dreadful) thing about it is the ability to add friends who can see whether you’ve entered your caloric intake and exercise into the program. Accountability is terrific and intimidating. I’m not only interested in reducing calories, I also want to choose foods that will decrease my risk of cancer and heart disease. MyFitnessPal provides a summary of the nutritional content of the food I enter, so that assists me in food selection. I’ve used other programs, but I’ve found this one to be the easiest and most useful.

Finding Our Way in Our Own Way

My husband and I continue on our respective and divergent paths as we seek to understand God and our relationship to Him. My husband's path is leading him through turmoil, despair, and feelings of rejection, while I journey on in relative calm, like a curious child, stopping at whatever point of interest I find. He doesn't doubt the validity of Christianity as I do, he questions whether he is beloved or rejected by God. He has openly expressed his pain and his questions to numerous others, especially those in leadership at our church. He's met over lunch with ministers, elders, and friends. It's no secret that he's struggling with his faith. I, on the other hand, began my questioning in private, reading books and blogs and speaking to no one. When I did share my questions with others, it was tentatively and with only a few trusted friends. Never did I approach the leadership of my church. I didn't want attention drawn to myself nor did I want to open myself up to judgment or criticism.

My husband, on the other hand, has never hesitated to bare his soul. In his "living out loud" style, he has felt the need for his public life to honestly reflect his struggles, so he believed it necessary to step down from teaching on occasion in Bible class and to step down from his role in leadership in the education program at church where he was helping to develop curriculum. He recently attended an elder's meeting and informed them of his intentions and the reasoning behind it. Thankfully, they responded in a positive way, mainly with hugs and prayer. This put a little attention on me in that a few people have asked him how I am doing. Though he hasn't shared details, he has let them know I am asking my own questions. No one has uttered words of condemnation or anxiously sought to bring us around to their way of thinking. I've greatly appreciated the responses. However, my husband has found some of the leaders reluctant to follow up or pursue his concerns in depth, which has caused some resentment for him.

I've been surprised at how comfortable I've been with additional people becoming aware of our current state of being. It makes me wonder whether I'm underestimating my family's ability to handle a greater awareness of my evolving beliefs. Over Easter, my husband's mom could tell that he was down in spirit about something and asked us about his mood repeatedly until he told her in a very general way about where he is spiritually. She was supportive and concerned and later left a voicemail for me expressing her care for us. However, I let my guardedness and discomfort over addressing it with her keep me from calling back to talk directly with her. I wimped out.

My husband has found a minister at another congregation who seems comfortable walking along this path with him and they are planning to study weekly together. My husband has enjoyed visiting this church recently. When he visits there, he has none of the accompanying resentment he has felt at our current church. In fact, he's resumed attending on Wednesday nights with the boys now that he's found this new congregation. Mercifully, he hasn't insisted that I join along.

I'm happy for my husband to find a place he enjoys instead of dreads. However, I am reluctant to invest energy into meeting a new set of people and connecting to a new church with a new set of ministries when I am questioning the fundamental basis for it all. I don't really want to change congregations, and my husband hasn't asked to do so. I love many aspects of our congregation. If I did make a switch, I'd rather it be after my thoughts settled and I actually had a better sense of my beliefs. It would also be awkward to enter a new church with this new role of "doubter." We are accustomed to being a couple who is counted on to be involved and committed to the mission and ministries of the church. We would not be in a very enviable role as Mrs. Doubter and Mr. Faith Crisis! Sadly, I must admit that my ego rebels a bit over occupying this lowly state. I don't want to be viewed as any one's project or fall in the "to be saved or rescued" category. I don't particularly feel a need to be rescued or saved. However, I do like the idea of having no expectations on me for being or believing in a particular way!

My husband and I each have our unique spiritual path that we choose individually, and yet, our way clearly shape the path of the other, making it even more difficult to predict what lies ahead.

And that's how are paths are meandering about these days.

Update

It's been awhile since I've posted. Life has kept me away from blogging. I've spent a great deal of time preparing to open my private practice, which I will officially do this Wednesday. There is still much to be done, but I wanted to take a few minutes to give a little update on my spiritual journey.

My husband and I are talking more about our spiritual concerns in an open way. This has been a lovely thing. We can finally be a support for each other in this area. When I first began my blog, it was very hard for him to read it and we certainly weren't discussing it!

I am increasingly at peace. I have books unread that I will still read, but I don't feel the need to keep up the frenetic pace that I was maintaining. I am talking to more people about where I am, and have felt comfortable speaking up in Bible class and being candid with my book club about where I am.

I continue to have serious doubts about Christianity as THE TRUTH and yet, I still find myself drawn to the spiritual. I have found it necessary to make the decision to stop attending church on Sunday night and I generally find reasons not to attend on Wednesdays. However, I am more comfortable again engaging my children in spiritual activities at home, such as prayer and discussion. My husband and I have also talked about reinstituting our "family fun night" where we teach some higher principle using an object lesson and fun activities. I am not motivated by a sense of duty, rather, I feel energized again about directing these activities and doing more explicit teaching to my children. I had avoided it, feeling dread about teaching something I wasn't sure I believed. Of course, I am still not clear about everything I believe, but I do think my values are becoming clearer and I can teach them mostly from a Christian framework, but I also feel free to use other frameworks as well. I feel a sort of freedom to move and to question, but also a freedom to be rooted in what I value.

Our book club just reviewed a book I found quite helpful and I look forward to bringing up several points from it in the coming days. Hopefully, I'll get a bit of a break in the work load again soon.

Carseat Theology: Technology and God

My oldest son, age 7, and I often have interesting discussions about God and religion while driving. On Friday, as we were driving home from his chess club, he called out from the back seat, "I wish God would speak to us today, but I know He's very busy with so many people dying," "What's He busy doing?" I asked. "Getting heaven ready for all those people" my son replied.

We then began a chat about what my son wanted to talk to God about. And what I learned is this: he's looking for high tech solutions to more efficiently save mankind. He believes we could use an update from God about how to add more people to the church. Apparently, VBS, mission trips, and door knocking are "so yesterday," as he's begun saying. Technology is tricky. On the one hand, people embrace it as a way to share their faith to a broader audience, by using the Internet, for example. On the other hand, the Internet allows us access to a wide range of resources and viewpoints we never might have considered before, challenging our faith. There are so many aspects of technology we could contemplate. What do you think? Does technology help or hinder Christianity? Or is it a wash?

I'll leave you with my son's high tech solution:

"If God could speak to you today, what would you like Him to say?"

"I would like Him to tell us more about how to build the church. Like, he could tell me to invent a box for people to go in where a robot dunks them in the water (baptism). They could sign a form to go in the box. And if they don't have time to go to the box, they could sign a form and the box would just appear in their life and they could get dunked."

"Why would they be too busy to go to the box?"

"Well, in the future, everyone will be fat, like on that movie (WALL-E), so they'll be at the gym alot."

I don't know, would this increase the number of Christians? Sounds a bit scary to me :) However, it would be efficient and the robots would certainly appeal to many young boys!

Year End Review

It's the end of 2010, which for me marks right at two years since I began seriously questioning my religious beliefs. I started out quite tentatively, reading books and speaking with no one about my questions. I was unsure of how others would react and I was filled with anxiety about my doubts. I feared where they might lead and I worried over my eternal fate. I eventually started reading blogs by atheists, which felt a bit like sinning. After all, I was openly tempting myself with unbelief, right? It didn't help that I would only read the blogs late at night when everyone was asleep, so as not to cause a conflict with my husband. That made what I was doing seem that much more shady. Eventually I found a friend or two to talk with and by the end of the first year, even my husband and I managed to have a strained conversation or two about my questions. My anxiety was beginning to lessen as I became use to my perpetual uncertainty and as I found others with similar questions.

2010 was a much easier year for me emotionally because I was "out of the closet" so to speak with my husband. Though we still don't talk much about differences in beliefs, we are less defensive with each other. He reads my blog to know my current thoughts and sends me links to articles on occasion. And on occasion we discuss them. This year I found several friends who were open to discussions of faith, a real blessing to me. A few of them even willingly attend a book club with me now where we discuss faith and science issues once a month at church. I enjoy discussions of faith and feel my questioning is a healthy sign of a serious and reflective faith. I no longer feel shame, or guilt, or anxiety about my questions, though I do grow a bit impatient with others who don't seem to question their own beliefs. I am more confident in discussing faith issues, not that I have the answers now, but I feel I have a right to ask the questions. I've also done a fair amount of reading, which has helped me think through issues. Starting this blog was the fullest expression of my willingness to discuss difficult issues. Though it began as a way to not overwhelm a friend of mine with countless emails from me, it has turned into a valuable way for me to work through questions, get advice and encouragement, and practice giving voice to my doubts. I appreciate those of you who have been a part of it.

Over at Exploring our Matrix, a thread has started discussing the faith journeys of similar others, who began as conservative Christians and have deconstructed their faiths, leaving themselves uncertain as to what is next. There are a few who regret this experience, but others, like myself, wouldn't go back to their starting point, despite the emotional difficulties and uncertainty. I noted in the thread that I call myself an "agnostic Christian" at this point, which sounds a bit strange and might be an oxymoron to some. It just highlights my uncertainty as well as my continued attraction to aspects of my faith. I look forward to another year of thinking and wondering. Happy New Year Everyone!

Tradition

With the holiday season upon us, I thought it appropriate to share some thoughts on tradition. Without it, where would our holiday season be? The memories, expectations, and meaning we derive from our holidays are based in the traditions we create and follow each year. Some traditions are more ingrained than others. For example, I've never not had turkey for Thanksgiving. However, where I have eaten the turkey has changed over the years. In fact, this year, for the first time, my mom and her husband will celebrate Thanksgiving at my house. Normally, someone from my generation would not yet be entrusted with the weighty responsibility of hosting such a sacred meal. However, my husband will be on call at work this week so we're unable to leave town. Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday until my dad died. His birthday was November 26, so we always celebrated his birthday on Thanksgiving. Given that the ending of that tradition was such a painful one, it effectively disrupted the entire holiday for me. Since then, I've celebrated it at my home without any company, with my husband's family, and even at church. And I find that I have less anticipation for Thanksgiving given that I haven't developed new traditions which connect me to the holiday.

Conversely, I have begun to enjoy Halloween immensely. I surprised myself by decorating our front yard this year more than in years past. My husband and I even dressed up for the occasion. I realized I was becoming more enthusiastic because it had become a significant day for our family. With young children at home, we had made a point to make it festive for them. We are typically in town for Halloween, so that facilitated creating easily repeated traditions. We attend trick-or-treat-a-trunk at church and trick-or-treat in the neighborhood as well. This year we even added a party at a friend's home and trick-or-treating at Botanic Gardens. And thanks to the message at the UU church we visited on Halloween, we also added honoring the deceased in our family. Our tradition is being built upon and enriched over time. Next year, we're likely to repeat the new events we tried this Halloween.

The older I get, the more I appreciate the importance of tradition, both for individuals and communities, even society as a whole. It connects us to our past and helps us feel like we belong, that we are part of something larger than ourselves. Typically, specific traditions have persisted because we find something of value in them. They give us something to anticipate. It can be comforting and orienting to know what to expect. There is a known script for everyone to follow. At Christmas, I know my family will open gifts one at a time, starting with the youngest and working up to the oldest member, while the members of my husband's family will tear into the gifts simultaneously.

As I have progressed through this reevaluation of my faith, I've given much thought to the role of tradition in religion. I come from a denomination (church of Christ) that tends to devalue tradition. We were taught in church that we needed the Bible alone and we rejected formal creeds as they were human creations, as opposed to the Bible, which was the inerrant word of God. We fancied ourselves a perfect replica of 1st century Christianity. No modern cultural influence here. Unlike everyone else, we cut through nearly 2000 years of misguided human interference and interpreted scripture just as God intended. In so doing, we created some traditions and informal creeds of our own, though we'd never call them that. But try questioning or changing them, and see where that gets you. This naive approach to the Bible prevents us from seeing the way our world view impacts our interpretation. Like an adolescent, we are blinded to the wisdom of others who've gone before us as we arrogantly declare our superior understanding. We unwittingly draw on our humanity in the development of our religion, just as people have done since the time of the apostles.

The truth is, we really can't get by in life without traditions. We are human. We will develop them. In fact, that is part of what makes us human, our ability to develop culture. I think the more mature approach is to continually reappraise our collective religious traditions, honoring and holding on to what is still valuable and creating our own traditions over time as we see a need.

So, I hope you all have lovely traditions to celebrate this Thanksgiving. And I would certainly enjoy hearing what they might be.

Update

It's been awhile since I posted here. I've been more focused on reading than writing lately. I'm trying to give some attention to my questions about who Jesus really was as well as the historicity of his resurrection. I'm trying to study these questions within the larger context of the 1st century Mediterranean world. It is very timely that DagoodS recently posted on similar themes. Additionally, Richard Beck recently reviewed Jesus: A Revolutionary Life by Dominic Crossan. This is the book I happen to be reading now. It's my literary interlude as I slog through NT Wright's book, Resurrection of the Son of God.

In other news, my husband has been more actively pursuing his own questions about God. He is more engaged in the question of why we don't always experience the presence or love of God. He found a song which really resonated with him. He even bought a ring and had the inside engraved with the title of the song,
The Silence of God.

In the past, the love of God seemed evident to me in the gift of salvation to all, answered prayer, and loving relationships with others, which appeared to be a reflection of His love for us all. Now, the belief that salvation resulted from the death of an innocent man as well as the belief that we are being saved from a torment created by God appears to be anything but loving. I don't know how much I believe in answered prayer as I have difficulty accepting God as capriciously fixing minor problems like lost car keys while ignoring major ones such as a tyrant oppressing an entire country. Prayer does not appear to be moving mountains. However, I certainly do experience the love of others on a daily basis. If anything does leave me with a faith in something/someone transcendent and benevolent, it would be my relationships with loving, thoughtful, giving others. Of course, this still leaves me with making sense of all the ugly, evil experiences I have had and witnessed in this world. So, in the meantime, I will do my best to be aware of all the beauty and love in this world and to reflect it back in my own life. Surely, I can't go wrong there, can I?

Conversations with Dad

I visited my hometown of St. Louis this past weekend to celebrate my grandma's 90th birthday. The person I missed greatly at the party was my dad. He died four years ago this November while in prison. And no, he wasn't an inmate, he was leading Sunday worship there and died of a heart attack on his way out. It was quite a shock for the family. He fought cancer, renal cell carcinoma, for the last 10 years of his life, so we were certain he would ultimately succumb to it. We weren't prepared for his death to come so suddenly, particularly when his cancer was in remission. My dad was a retired elementary school principal, but he was an elder at church and preached quite a bit.

When I go home, I always like to spend time in his study. When I think of my dad, that's where I envision him. He was often there at night, either reading, writing letters to others, or preparing a sermon or Bible class lesson. Classical music was always playing on his record player. (He wasn't one to keep up with technology). I would often go in there and talk with him about any number of things. Often, it was religion and the questions I had about it. He was one of the few people who could handle discussing various viewpoints without becoming agitated or defensive. As an adolescent I was fairly obnoxious in my criticisms of church life, but he patiently listened to it all, while my mom and sister were understandably exasperated by me. I would sometimes dominate the entire mealtime conversation after Sunday morning church. I remember my mom giving looks to my sister which said, "I wish she would just stop talking!"

Over the weekend, I read through an old sermon of my dad's, written in 1978, just
before his 30th birthday. It was entitled "Doubt and the Christian." He addresses the passage in Hebrews which states "without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." He didn't view this passage as a condemnation of all doubt. He thought it pertained to only "hostile, antagonistic skepticism." He believed that doubt was a natural, valued part of our human experience and faith walk, which has been unfairly criticized. (Of course, reading Biblical passages like the one in Hebrews might very well lead one to criticize doubt.) He believed questioning our faith could lead to clarifying our beliefs, improving communication of our beliefs, and producing a deeper set of convictions. He condemned evasiveness toward a challenge to our faith as well as "shallow defensiveness of smug dogmatism." I'm not sure whether my current doubts will lead in the direction my dad would have hoped for or not, but it's encouraging to think that he might value the faith crisis I am experiencing and, were he still here, willingly sit in his study and have another talk with me about it.

What to do with Family?

This time next week, I'll be up in St. Louis celebrating my paternal grandma's 90th birthday. Several family members from both my side and my husband's side of the family live there. Additionally, uncles and cousins will be flying in from Detroit, Seattle, and Atlanta for the occasion. My sister and her family will also drive up from the south. I'm certainly looking forward to the party and to the family reunion. I've never visited my dad's side of the family as much as I've wanted as he grew up in Detroit, meaning that visits during my childhood were generally confined to a 2 week long trip each summer. It was a time to enjoy Vernor's ginger ale, which hadn't made it way to the south back then. I haven't returned to Detroit in several years because my grandma had a stroke and moved to St. Louis to live with 2 of my aunts. All this to say, I'll be catching up with many family members next weekend.


Which brings me to my question for today: How do I handle my changing religious beliefs with family members who are overwhelmingly church of Christ Christians with a fairly literal interpretation of the Bible? In my family, on both sides, as well as my husband's family in fact, you basically either attend a church of Christ or you don't attend at all. And most attend. I'm not saying I'm planning on bringing anything up this weekend, because I don't think I will. But, I do feel uncomfortable with the fact that I haven't shared a very large part of my life with the people I care the most about in this world. It makes me feel a bit disingenuous and disconnected in some of these relationships.

For my part, I no longer feel like this reevaluation/deconstruction of my faith is a dark blot on my soul that must be hidden from others out of embarrassment or fear for what it means about me. I feel much more comfortable in my own skin and my doubts have been normalized by others, including many of you reading this blog. Nonetheless, I have little faith that family members would be so accepting or understanding of what I'm experiencing. I haven't heard anyone else talk about a faith crisis. Here I'm talking of my closest family. I've certainly witnessed aunts, uncles, and cousins stop attending church for a time, so certainly some must have gone through a type of questioning process.

I realize my family might surprise me with their level of understanding and acceptance, as several friends have done, but one of my friends summed it up well in an email he wrote. He said, "And one of the challenges of a deep faith crisis is that it threatens the most dear communities that we have (read: family) with a challenge to their own faith and the dislocation of one of their primary meaning
makers (read: you)." When any of us are threatened, we tend to respond defensively, out of anxiety, and it's not typically pretty. I know that my faith crisis is not so nearly threatening to friends as it is to family.

How have you addressed this issue in your life? What thoughts do you have on addressing the reevaluation of religious beliefs within our communities?

Confession

I have a confession to make. This noble "quest for the truth" of mine is getting a bit out of hand. It is what I think about in my free time, composing blog posts in my mind while driving home from work, or while playing with my kids, or while sitting in the pew at church. I read commentaries when I should be writing progress notes for work, or emailing a friend back, or having a conversation with my husband. I peruse the blogs of skeptics and Christians alike when I should be sleeping, or cleaning the kitchen, or volunteering to have my neighbor's children over.

This quest is highly important to me, and will continue to be. But, I feel myself withdrawing a bit, even from those I care about. I don't feel the desire to call my mom and catch up or check on friends via Facebook like I use to do. My husband called me on this recently and said he feels disconnected from me. I'm not surprised. It hasn't been easy to connect with me lately. I told him that we don't have alot to talk about since he doesn't feel comfortable discussing the subject that continually preoccupies me. Neither of us want it to be this way, this isolating. So, we went on a date Friday night. I was grumpy and irritable, mainly due to work stress and the fact that our oldest sobbed and wailed relentlessly when we dropped him off at Kid's Night Out. However, my husband valiantly maintained a good mood throughout it all. Towards the end of the evening, my crankiness subsided and we were finally able to talk in that easy way we normally have with each other. We discussed some touchy subjects and even managed to laugh with each other a bit.

I realize that this vexing doubt of mine is here for awhile, maybe forever, so there's no need to let it take over, like a new best friend who goes everywhere with you, leaving you no time for anyone else. I'll have to learn when to talk to it like the neighborhood children, "It's time for you to home for now, but you can come back tomorrow."

Marriage, Dinner, and a Faith Crisis

Another wedding anniversary is approaching for me, which has caused me to reflect on how my faith crisis has impacted my marriage and how my marriage has impacted my faith crisis.

I officially mark my faith crisis as beginning in January of 2009. However, I had an aborted attempt at a faith crisis back many years ago. I had just begun grad school and was fairly newly married. I tried to have a conversation with my husband about my concern that most all of humanity was destined to hell because of not living in the right time or place to hear about Jesus. The conversation ended with my husband defensive and angry and myself in tears. That conversation over dinner was the beginning and end of my initial faith crisis.

Fast forward to last year. The same old question which provoked my initial crisis began to nag at me relentlessly. It had really never left. I made a decision at that point to have a controlled, private faith crisis. (This sounds absurd, but it's the truth.) I started with the Internet, reading blogs and articles when the family was asleep. Then, I began reading books and leaving them out so my husband could see what I was reading. That actually took some nerve on my part. He saw books on evolution, textual criticism, and Biblical interpretation. Finally, at the end of the year, he asked me about them. I shared some of my struggles with a fair amount of reluctance. I spoke of the evidence I found for evolution and the fact that I no longer hold the Bible to be inerrant. He surprised me by remaining fairly calm and listening a great deal. A couple of months later, we had a good conversation during dinner where he actually admitted he shared some of my concerns and questions about the Bible. This was a pleasant surprise. Although my husband was uncomfortable hearing my thoughts in great depth, he asked for me to keep him informed at a general level as I continued to study and develop my thinking about matters of faith. It was a liberating gift to experience my husband's new found ability to accept me in my struggle. He still feels uncomfortable with many of my beliefs and will not engage with me for long on them. However, there is a new openness and acceptance between us that wasn't there before. We also feel closer as a result of this experience. I have wondered before what would happen to our marriage if I lost my faith entirely. I know there would be much to work out, but it's no longer something which frightens me. When I consider the possibility of a world without God, I somehow actually feel more connected to my husband, knowing I love him without needing to believe there is a God commanding me to do so.