I Will Never Stop Seeking

This blog update is a follow-up to a post I made on Facebook last night. The first paragraph below was what I posted. What I'm about to write is personal but I share it with hopes that it will help others see another side that they may not be appreciative of with respect to those of us who have chosen to leave organized religion or whatever belief system they may have walked away from. I've always been a very spiritual person, seeking after God and in conversation throughout the day with this entity, whatever it may be. If you ever see me out walking and it looks like I'm talking to myself; I'm likely in conversation with God. Some of what I say here in this post may strike some as offensive. That's not my intention but I don't know how to sugarcoat this to make it more acceptable to you. Thank you for hearing me out.

A little more than 15 years ago when Rachel turned 16, Tammy, Rachel, and I got Christian fish ankle tattoos to signify our walk with Jesus. I liked it—we all did, but a number of years ago it stopped being something I was proud of when the religion I once was so fond of was hijacked by a political party that had zero in common with the Jesus they claim to follow. I was embarrassed. I did my best to cover it by wearing taller socks than I liked but I just wanted it gone. Today was my first step toward having it removed.

If I pause long enough to think about all that went into this decision, I can cry, and that's not something that comes easily to me. I used to say that attending church at Hosanna was the highlight of my week. I really meant that. But then our senior pastor, Bill Bohline, began preaching politics from behind the pulpit by encouraging us to vote YES on an upcoming amendment to our state's constitution. The amendment would ensure that same-sex couples could never marry in Minnesota. He had also made it clear that, while welcoming same-sex couples into the church, they would not be allowed to serve in any leadership position at Hosanna! (The lead cook at Hosanna was fired for this offense.) I have a heart for the LGBTQI community and this wasn't sitting well with me. My heart hurt for any same-sex couples that may have been in attendance as he singled out their "sin" but gave a pass to the rest of us for ours. Sure, Bill always couched his condemnation with an assurance that all are welcome at Hosanna but his actions spoke much more loudly. Hosanna would break from the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) over this issue and I would leave the church soon after. 

It didn't help that around this time I had just finished reading the Bible, cover to cover, for the 7th time, and I was left with many more questions than answers. These were serious questions that had become part of a huge hurdle for me having to do with the authenticity of biblical scripture. I actually prayed for clarity all the way through my daily reading/devotion. The clarity I received wasn't the clarity I expected. I came to realize that the Bible was written and assembled by men and was heavily influenced by their prejudices and agendas and not so much by God. 

I worry that the Bible isn't genuine and that we simply choose to embrace it and accept it as factual because, well, because we always have. Man has corrupted everything he's touched, including the church so why not the Bible as well? I no longer believe in its inerrancy. I'm troubled that it took literally decades, many decades after Jesus was crucified before the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were written. These gospels detailed the life of Jesus. Why would something so important as his walking among them/us, his crucifixion, and his resurrection, including the numerous miracles he performed, take 40-110 years to write about? (The number of years varies depending on whose interpretation you trust, but I don't care if it was 10 years. The writings should have begun as they were happening.) I can't help but imagine the stories becoming just so much folklore by the time the gospels' writers put pen to parchment, and I assume, embellished them along the way.

But it wasn't just clarity about what I was reading in the Bible that was at work because, around this same time, I began asking God to let me see the world through his eyes. I couldn't think of a more meaningful thing to pray for. It was something I prayed fervently for and continue to seek today. I wanted him to open my eyes to any blindspots I may have. That's when so much began to change for me.

This is also when I began to quietly deconstruct my faith and rebuild it in a way that made sense rather than something that adhered to the tenants of the Christian faith I had come to question.

Maybe it was God answering my prayers or maybe it was me giving myself permission to take down the walls I'd built around me that blinded me to another perspective. Whatever it was it was powerful and it was freeing. I began to try and put myself in the shoes of others less fortunate; in the shoes of a Black man in everyday life and the hurdles and stares and judgment that come with being a Black man in our society. I try as best I can (and I never will be able to) to feel what he must feel. It's been a revealing practice that I can't recommend enough. I've learned so much about my own preconceived, ingrained prejudices. I'm a work in progress. 

Does that make me "woke"?

Thoughts about self-fulfilling prophecy kept coming to the fore.

I began to take more notice of those less fortunate than myself. I saw them as equals with lives and family and needs and dreams, like me. We are no different. Compassion for them replaced the judgment I had been harboring. I was seeing the world through a different pair of eyes. I do believe God had answered my prayers and was working on my heart and still is. I have a long way to go yet.

And then Donald Trump, a racist conman in a red hat, came on the scene, spouting hurtful words directed at anyone who dared question him or disagree with him while at the same time making it clear that violence is acceptable. Evangelical Christians couldn't get enough of him. They loved him! I have no doubt that Jesus wept at the sight of this. My heart would sink even further as I watched family and friends get sucked into this madness where most of them still remain today. Even when he was separating infants and children from their parents at our southern border as a signal of deterrence to others, Evangelical Christians stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Today, more than 5 years later, many of those children have yet to be reunited with their parents. 

Whatever happened to WWJD? Was that just a catchy slogan worn on a rubber wristband, not to be taken seriously? Can you imagine MAGA people being at all influential in writing and organizing the books of the Bible? Would you trust them? Can we be sure it wasn't people with this kind of mindset who played an instrumental role in the origins of Christianity?  

I don't want to make this about Trump but I felt it important to mention him because he made clear to me how easily people can be led astray by a demagogue. I began to think again about the authenticity of scripture within the Bible and wondered, what if Moses was a Trump-like figure who would lie about anything? He could claim whatever he wanted and his followers would believe him. The voice of God coming from within a burning bush? The parting of the Red Sea? A talking donkey? Noah's Ark? Those are some grandiose tales, no? Do you honestly believe they happened? What if the first 5 books of the Old Testament in the Bible attributed to Moses are nothing more than the ramblings of a madman claiming all sorts of made-up nonsense? Would you put your trust in anyone who would tell a rape victim that she shall marry her rapist? No loving God would condemn a woman to such a life because those aren't the words of God. They're the words of Moses. 

I've closed my Bible for the last time with no intention of going back to it again. It only diminishes my faith, especially the Old Testament. This is where I find myself at age 65 with my life passing by faster than ever with no real idea of what lies beyond this life. It's a confusing time for me. And, in some regards, a sad time as well. I miss the faith I once knew but I can't go back, not with all I've seen and have come to realize. In some respects, I feel like one of the Voyager spacecraft, hurtling through space, no longer tethered to the foundation that once grounded me while leaving our galaxy for worlds unknown.

I still pray to Jesus but not as frequently or fervently as I once did. I believe we have guardian angels that guide us through this life, and I believe in reincarnation. I'm a very young soul but I've been here before. I feel that deep within me. I've experienced God's miracles in my own life in many ways: from his guiding hand throughout my career where I relied on him more than you would know, to Tammy and Rachel coming into my life at the perfect time, to the many health scares and truly miraculous healings I've had along the way. I know in my heart these things were gifts from God, not to be discounted.

I'll leave you with this story of losing my cross necklace while on a ride one day and the meaning the cross held for me then (it lies at the bottom of a glass bowl on the counter in our laundry room now). I wouldn't give up on finding it. I won't give up on myself, either. I am a work in progress and I will never stop seeking.

Lost Then Found

That's all I've got.