Faith, Religion, Spirituality... Oh My.
I believe in God. I think I always have, though my definition of "God" has definitely changed over time.
I have no idea whether God is male or female - or even if God has to be one or the other. I don't especially care. I do care that God is benevolent and not vengeful. I do believe, loosely, in the Judeo-Christian history.
I grew up with a basic religious background. My parents were Lutheran. We attended a Methodist church. When my parents divorced, my dad became Anglican. I've been Anglican since I was 12. My mom, on the other hand, decided that maybe she was an agnostic. She felt that when she had been going to church all those years of her life, she was there for the music and not the faith.
As I grew older and learned more about the faith I had chosen, I discovered how much a part of me it really was. The music was a major part of that as well. I would never voluntarily attend the 815 service at our church growing up, because it was "express" service with no music. The Mass, a homily and you're out the door by 9. The 1015 service, was full blown all music, sung mass and it was an hour an fifteen minutes. For me, the music was how I worshiped best.
I loved it all. Advent, Christmas, epiphany, Holy week - while brutal, was worth it to get to my favorite of all services, Easter Vigil. For me, I remember the first time as an adult being at that service around sundown. During the course of that service, as we were all singing, you could watch the sun move from the the east windows to the west windows, in it's journey out for the night. I remember El, another member of my father's choir, leaning over her first time seeing this, and whispering "it's almost like the Passover".
Theologically speaking, no. Spiritually, in that moment, absolutely.
Once I met John, however, he advised me that he was an atheist. Right out of the gate too. I couldn't even start to formulate a thought on this. What would happen now? I couldn't be so heavily involved in my faith and church and be in a relationship with an atheist. Could I? I couldn't.
I couldn't wrap my mind around it. But, I was head over heels for this guy. Over time, we had many, many conversations about the differences and why he came to the conclusion for himself that he was an atheist. His reasoning, in short, "We are born without religion - that is learned" and my personal favorite, "I don't have to believe in God, because he believes in me".
Part of what sold me on continuing to pursue the relationship, was the church he was a member of. Unitarian Universalism confused me. But my feeling, at the time, was that if he was an atheist but continued to go to the church he was raised in, that meant something. There was a draw for him to a community of people that were of similar minds perhaps.
John went into the hospital when he had cancer the first time. While he was in, he asked me to go to his church one Sunday so that I could meet everyone and let the minister know that he was in the hospital. So I went.
Oh.Boy.
It was not what I was accustomed too. I was very uncomfortable. I know now, that it was a summer service. Which means, at that time, everything is lighter, we have guest ministers, music is usually just piano. So you don't necessarily get the full effect of the service.
John, still in the hospital, says I have to try it again because that is not a fair representation. So, a few months later, in the fall, John was away on business, I decided to try it again. This time was much better, the minister remembered me from a family memorial service, and took me by the hand and walked me around introducing me to everyone during coffee hour ( no one ever asked me to take a red mug though!). The service had a more structured feel, more music and the regular minister had preached. I was much more comfortable and felt an amazing connection when "Spirit of life" was sung.
Fast forward to Christmas, John and I embark on the first of the "Multi Church Service Christmas Eves." So, I am in the pews with my future mother-in-law, Jo, and H. John is singing in the choir.
It was lovely. I remember sitting on the west side of the sanctuary. I remember seeing Jeannie singing with the choir also though we hadn't yet met. I remember thinking "Wow. That choir is tiny. They handle the music really well." At the end, we left to go to my Anglican service, with much of the same music. The content for both services was not dramatically different. On the surface.
But when it was quiet that night, I sat with my eggnog, John and the cats were asleep, and I thought about the two services. Both celebrated the same event. The birth of Christ. Both sang all the traditional hymns and did the candle lit silent night. They had Christmas trees and all the usual decorations. Both were mystical in their own way.
But the differences were subtle. There was a connection made at the Unitarian Church to Social Justice and Action. There was a connection made to a very intellectual, liberal, thought provoking place in me. A place that I had not yet really tapped into. A place that the Anglican church didn't leave room for me to tap into.
Over the next year or two, I discovered a few things about my belief system. A major shift for me was that I really didn't believe in "the father, the son and the holy ghost". I wasn't sure that I ever had, but I was definitely sure that I didn't now.
Once that was settled in my soul, it started me down an interesting path, I started really investigating other tenets of my faith and what it really meant to be free to choose my beliefs. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that one day almost 10 years ago, John came home from a choir rehearsal and announced to me that he had signed me up to join the choir at his church. They only had one Soprano. They needed more help.
I know that reads as if I abruptly changed gears, but I assure you it was intentional.
You see - that announcement came at very pivotal time for me. I was struggling with attending the church that I grew up in and loved. There were some issues between us and I had taken a break. John signing me up for choir was just the impetus I needed to make a change.
I started attending rehearsals for a Black History Month Concert. Once that concert was over, the other Soprano, Bigbee, had asked me if I had any interest in staying. I found myself saying "Yes" without having thought it all the way through.
My Spirit did the thinking that day. It was as if I had come home.
I started attending services regularly and made many new friends. It was interesting to be a part of a liberal, thought provoking spiritual faith that didn't require us to believe the same way. or have the expectation of the same way of thinking. This was really new to me.
During these early months as I discovered the religious and musical freedom, John and I started talking more and more about the religious beliefs that I held so dear. I slowly began relaxing into these conversations as exploratory rather than defensive.
He once asked me about death, dying, heaven and hell. Did I believe in last rites? Is there a purgatory? I was no longer sure where I stood on these topics.So, I took some quiet time and thought about it. I took apart the beliefs that the Anglican faith taught me, I added in the history of other faiths and suddenly something sparked something in me.
I had an epiphany.
Heaven and Hell aren't two different places. They are just different planes of the same place, much like earth. Somewhat like Hades and the underworld. Your place in the afterlife is contingent upon how you lived your life here. There's no fire and brimstone, no "devil", no pitchforks. Not even for the worst of humanity. You know why? Because no one is all good or all bad. You don't secure a better place in the after life because you were cockroach or a saint. It's a culmination of a lifetime of events. It's not a black or white matter. It's more about how you lived your life based on the hand you were dealt.
I also believe in the universe, astrology and the planets. Mercury Retrograde? What a mess that planet makes and I'm thrilled that it ended yesterday. But other planets go retrograde too and while they don't wreak havoc the same way Mercury does, they can still alter things for us.
I believe in the spiritual power of the Moon. I believe in the spiritual power of the Ocean and the tides. I believe in fire. I believe there is magic in nature. I believe in the tarot. I believe in reincarnation, I believe in the healing power of Reiki. I believe in the spiritual centering of Yoga.
I believe in spirits. John makes regular visits to his friends and family. Chuck, the guitarist in his band, plays gigs with John in his dreams. I've had John here in the house, He hijacks my play lists all the time. He messes with Jeannie's dogs - poor Leila - she's never even met him so when he's there, she freaks out and barks at him. Nate could care less - he looks up as if to say "oh it's you again - big deal" He's been on stage playing during gigs I perform at. He's been at the railroad station when Jake was commuting home. Brenna saw him at the store one day recently to the point where she got off the check out line to follow him, she was so astonished. Frankly, I think he just likes the shock value and the practical jokes.
I am comfortable knowing that I don't have to have all the answers theologically or spiritually. I believe that all of these things resonate in a way that supports my belief in God. Each time I go to the beach, or have a massage or a Reiki session, I'm honoring God. Each Sunday, I light two candles. One is for John and others that are either newly deceased or anniversaries, the other is for current things I need to light a candle for in prayer for or in thanksgiving. Fire is powerful and in this setting it helps center me and honors my messages to God.
John did not have a funeral. Not in the traditional sense of the word. We had an open mic at the funeral home, and then we had a memorial service that was officiated by Jake. Lots of musicians and music. I gave a eulogy I don't remember. It was not religious at all, because I promised him I would honor his atheism.
I'm going to divulge a secret now. John communicated this to me through Nessa, my massage therapist (she's also a psychic).
He told me he was wrong.
There is a God.
I knew it.
I have no idea whether God is male or female - or even if God has to be one or the other. I don't especially care. I do care that God is benevolent and not vengeful. I do believe, loosely, in the Judeo-Christian history.
I grew up with a basic religious background. My parents were Lutheran. We attended a Methodist church. When my parents divorced, my dad became Anglican. I've been Anglican since I was 12. My mom, on the other hand, decided that maybe she was an agnostic. She felt that when she had been going to church all those years of her life, she was there for the music and not the faith.
As I grew older and learned more about the faith I had chosen, I discovered how much a part of me it really was. The music was a major part of that as well. I would never voluntarily attend the 815 service at our church growing up, because it was "express" service with no music. The Mass, a homily and you're out the door by 9. The 1015 service, was full blown all music, sung mass and it was an hour an fifteen minutes. For me, the music was how I worshiped best.
I loved it all. Advent, Christmas, epiphany, Holy week - while brutal, was worth it to get to my favorite of all services, Easter Vigil. For me, I remember the first time as an adult being at that service around sundown. During the course of that service, as we were all singing, you could watch the sun move from the the east windows to the west windows, in it's journey out for the night. I remember El, another member of my father's choir, leaning over her first time seeing this, and whispering "it's almost like the Passover".
Theologically speaking, no. Spiritually, in that moment, absolutely.
Once I met John, however, he advised me that he was an atheist. Right out of the gate too. I couldn't even start to formulate a thought on this. What would happen now? I couldn't be so heavily involved in my faith and church and be in a relationship with an atheist. Could I? I couldn't.
I couldn't wrap my mind around it. But, I was head over heels for this guy. Over time, we had many, many conversations about the differences and why he came to the conclusion for himself that he was an atheist. His reasoning, in short, "We are born without religion - that is learned" and my personal favorite, "I don't have to believe in God, because he believes in me".
Part of what sold me on continuing to pursue the relationship, was the church he was a member of. Unitarian Universalism confused me. But my feeling, at the time, was that if he was an atheist but continued to go to the church he was raised in, that meant something. There was a draw for him to a community of people that were of similar minds perhaps.
John went into the hospital when he had cancer the first time. While he was in, he asked me to go to his church one Sunday so that I could meet everyone and let the minister know that he was in the hospital. So I went.
Oh.Boy.
It was not what I was accustomed too. I was very uncomfortable. I know now, that it was a summer service. Which means, at that time, everything is lighter, we have guest ministers, music is usually just piano. So you don't necessarily get the full effect of the service.
John, still in the hospital, says I have to try it again because that is not a fair representation. So, a few months later, in the fall, John was away on business, I decided to try it again. This time was much better, the minister remembered me from a family memorial service, and took me by the hand and walked me around introducing me to everyone during coffee hour ( no one ever asked me to take a red mug though!). The service had a more structured feel, more music and the regular minister had preached. I was much more comfortable and felt an amazing connection when "Spirit of life" was sung.
Fast forward to Christmas, John and I embark on the first of the "Multi Church Service Christmas Eves." So, I am in the pews with my future mother-in-law, Jo, and H. John is singing in the choir.
It was lovely. I remember sitting on the west side of the sanctuary. I remember seeing Jeannie singing with the choir also though we hadn't yet met. I remember thinking "Wow. That choir is tiny. They handle the music really well." At the end, we left to go to my Anglican service, with much of the same music. The content for both services was not dramatically different. On the surface.
But when it was quiet that night, I sat with my eggnog, John and the cats were asleep, and I thought about the two services. Both celebrated the same event. The birth of Christ. Both sang all the traditional hymns and did the candle lit silent night. They had Christmas trees and all the usual decorations. Both were mystical in their own way.
But the differences were subtle. There was a connection made at the Unitarian Church to Social Justice and Action. There was a connection made to a very intellectual, liberal, thought provoking place in me. A place that I had not yet really tapped into. A place that the Anglican church didn't leave room for me to tap into.
Over the next year or two, I discovered a few things about my belief system. A major shift for me was that I really didn't believe in "the father, the son and the holy ghost". I wasn't sure that I ever had, but I was definitely sure that I didn't now.
Once that was settled in my soul, it started me down an interesting path, I started really investigating other tenets of my faith and what it really meant to be free to choose my beliefs. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that one day almost 10 years ago, John came home from a choir rehearsal and announced to me that he had signed me up to join the choir at his church. They only had one Soprano. They needed more help.
I know that reads as if I abruptly changed gears, but I assure you it was intentional.
You see - that announcement came at very pivotal time for me. I was struggling with attending the church that I grew up in and loved. There were some issues between us and I had taken a break. John signing me up for choir was just the impetus I needed to make a change.
I started attending rehearsals for a Black History Month Concert. Once that concert was over, the other Soprano, Bigbee, had asked me if I had any interest in staying. I found myself saying "Yes" without having thought it all the way through.
My Spirit did the thinking that day. It was as if I had come home.
I started attending services regularly and made many new friends. It was interesting to be a part of a liberal, thought provoking spiritual faith that didn't require us to believe the same way. or have the expectation of the same way of thinking. This was really new to me.
During these early months as I discovered the religious and musical freedom, John and I started talking more and more about the religious beliefs that I held so dear. I slowly began relaxing into these conversations as exploratory rather than defensive.
He once asked me about death, dying, heaven and hell. Did I believe in last rites? Is there a purgatory? I was no longer sure where I stood on these topics.So, I took some quiet time and thought about it. I took apart the beliefs that the Anglican faith taught me, I added in the history of other faiths and suddenly something sparked something in me.
I had an epiphany.
Heaven and Hell aren't two different places. They are just different planes of the same place, much like earth. Somewhat like Hades and the underworld. Your place in the afterlife is contingent upon how you lived your life here. There's no fire and brimstone, no "devil", no pitchforks. Not even for the worst of humanity. You know why? Because no one is all good or all bad. You don't secure a better place in the after life because you were cockroach or a saint. It's a culmination of a lifetime of events. It's not a black or white matter. It's more about how you lived your life based on the hand you were dealt.
I also believe in the universe, astrology and the planets. Mercury Retrograde? What a mess that planet makes and I'm thrilled that it ended yesterday. But other planets go retrograde too and while they don't wreak havoc the same way Mercury does, they can still alter things for us.
I believe in the spiritual power of the Moon. I believe in the spiritual power of the Ocean and the tides. I believe in fire. I believe there is magic in nature. I believe in the tarot. I believe in reincarnation, I believe in the healing power of Reiki. I believe in the spiritual centering of Yoga.
I believe in spirits. John makes regular visits to his friends and family. Chuck, the guitarist in his band, plays gigs with John in his dreams. I've had John here in the house, He hijacks my play lists all the time. He messes with Jeannie's dogs - poor Leila - she's never even met him so when he's there, she freaks out and barks at him. Nate could care less - he looks up as if to say "oh it's you again - big deal" He's been on stage playing during gigs I perform at. He's been at the railroad station when Jake was commuting home. Brenna saw him at the store one day recently to the point where she got off the check out line to follow him, she was so astonished. Frankly, I think he just likes the shock value and the practical jokes.
I am comfortable knowing that I don't have to have all the answers theologically or spiritually. I believe that all of these things resonate in a way that supports my belief in God. Each time I go to the beach, or have a massage or a Reiki session, I'm honoring God. Each Sunday, I light two candles. One is for John and others that are either newly deceased or anniversaries, the other is for current things I need to light a candle for in prayer for or in thanksgiving. Fire is powerful and in this setting it helps center me and honors my messages to God.
John did not have a funeral. Not in the traditional sense of the word. We had an open mic at the funeral home, and then we had a memorial service that was officiated by Jake. Lots of musicians and music. I gave a eulogy I don't remember. It was not religious at all, because I promised him I would honor his atheism.
I'm going to divulge a secret now. John communicated this to me through Nessa, my massage therapist (she's also a psychic).
He told me he was wrong.
There is a God.
I knew it.
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