A few weeks ago I stumbled across a post on the blog Not-Calm, and after I read this paragraph from it I felt like my head had been struck by lightning. Or 1,000 light bulbs had gone off inside it. Or something along those lines. (emphasis added by me)
When Lex was in kindergarten and went through a time where he couldn’t sleep at night because the idea of dying was upsetting him too much, I told him that before he was born his whole world was inside of me. He could hear my voice, in an underwater, warped way, and he maybe knew that he wasn’t alone, that there was something else keeping him company. And, I told him, it would have been impossible for him to imagine the world that he was about to be born into. Light, colors, air, trees, smells, cars, houses, seashells, rockets, food, even his mother – everything he could think of – all of it was so close to him all the time but he had no way to know. I told him that we have no idea what happens after we die, but that if we have the sense that there’s more out there, then I think it’s because there is. That there’s something holding us that we can’t see or imagine, but we can still feel is there. It seemed to help him. I know it helped me.
That part in bold is basically the exact view I hold of religion, yet have been unable to put it into words. Thank you, Jenijen, for doing it for me. Now that we have a daughter and will hopefully give her a sibling or two someday, the concept of religion and my feelings toward it has been in my thoughts a lot more often than it used to be.
I do believe in God, or a god of some sort, but my religion basically stops there. Which may seem pretty odd, considering I grew up going to Sunday School and church pretty much every week, was baptized as a baby, and went through Confirmation in my church. I was raised Presbyterian, and R and I were even married in a Presbyterian church. It was a very non-denominational church, but a Presbyterian one nonetheless.
I have never denounced organized religion or anything like that, nor have I ever had a bad experience with the church either. I guess I basically just got bored with it, and never saw the point of having a book that was written thousands of years ago govern my way of thinking and living. Although we attended church regularly, my family was not overly religious when I was younger, so it’s just not something that was deeply ingrained in me with much importance. And quite frankly, the highlight of the sermon for me each week was counting the pipes in our church’s organ. There are 152. That is a number I don’t think I will ever forget.
So when we decided to have kids, I knew I probably wasn’t going to feel the need to raise them with a strong emphasis on religion either. I felt I may get a little pressure on this from R’s family though, who are pretty devout Catholics.
And for some reason, and this will probably totally expose my religious ignorance, Catholicism has always seemed to me to be a religion that wants to push you until you join them and follow their rules. And man do they have a lot of rules, something I’ve discovered in the 11 years R and I have been together. He’s not even a strict Catholic anymore either, more along the lines of barely even practicing. He’s given up on the no meat during Lent thing, and neither of us has been to church in years. And no, he has not forsaken his religion either, it’s just not something that is high on either of our lists.
Some people may be gasping in horror at this lack of faith in our lives, but it just is what it is. It’s not even a complete lack of faith really, but maybe a lack of practicing that faith actively anymore. And personally, I don’t see this as having had a negative impact on our lives at all.
But back to the having kids without really having religion. What then? From the start I just assumed we would not have our children baptized as infants, but let that be a choice for them to make on their own when they’re old enough to make it.
Seems fair, right? I mean, why force a religion label on a baby who has no idea what any of it means, and whose parents are not only 2 different religions but don’t really practice either of them anyway? Which one would we choose, and why?
I know scads of people will disagree with me on this, but I kind of find the notion that God will shun any life simply because it has not been baptized ridiculous. Many people hold the baptismal rite as something profoundly sacred, and I fully respect that. It’s just not for me. I think if, god-forbid, D passed away before she was baptized, she would not spend eternity rotting in hell simply due to that fact. It just doesn’t jive for me. I think if there is a heaven, her spot has been reserved for almost a year now, no matter what happens from here on out.
There are so many different religions out there, 99% of which I know extremely little about, it just makes sense to me to allow our kids to discover them, learn about them, and see if there’s one that they really feel drawn to. Just as long as it’s not some crazy unibomber kool-aid-drinking cult, I’ll be satisfied. And who knows, maybe someday I’ll feel the need and/or desire to go back to church, and then maybe I’ll even see if D wants to be baptized into it, but right now I’m happy how we are.
Here’s kind of how I see things. Like I said, I do believe in a god figure of some sort. Is it the exact God I learned about in the Bible, the one who we all grew up picturing as a grandfatherly man with an enormously long gray beard dressed in enormously long flowing white robes who lives up in the clouds? Eh, maybe not. But I definitely think there’s something out there.
I do believe in evolution, and the Big Bang theory makes much more sense to me than the story of Creation (a person from a rib? does not compute), but something had to have caused that spark that ignited the Big Bang. Something had to make that second in time happen so that the entire universe could then spill forth.
That something is kind of more how I picture god. And I think I’m more comfortable with it being a lower case g god, too. I’m not convinced it’s a human figure, but more of a spirit. Like those words above say, it’s that sense we have that there’s more out there, because I totally have that sense.
And you may find this part really weird, but yes, I do say bedtime prayers. In fact, I say the exact same “Now I lay me down to sleep…” version that I made up with my mom when I was little that includes all of my family members, pets, and my youngest sister at the end since she came along after I already had the list solidified. I have come to add my own touches here and there too as I feel the need, especially now that I have my own little family. D always gets a shout-out for protection, and R makes the list too on those days when he’s being nice to me.
But what about Baby Jesus? I don’t know, what about him? Did he exist? I don’t know. Why do we celebrate Christmas as his birth then? Good question. Don’t ask me, I didn’t devise the religious calendar for that part of the world’s population who believes in it.
See here’s the other thing. I don’t know why, but for as long as I can remember I have always gotten the weirdest feeling about the Bible. Like, how do we know it was really written by the people by whom you believe it was written? I know there are the Dead Sea Scrolls and all, but still. And how did its words come to stand as the law of the land? Um, that’s why it’s called faith, SM. Yes, I get that, and I guess that’s just where mine differs from many others’. I place my faith in the something more out there instead of those ancient pages.
This kind of turned into a jumbled vomit session. Sorry about that. Point is, though, that no, we’re not baptizing D. At least not anytime in the foreseeable future. And fortunately we never did get the push-back I was expecting about that either. R’s mom did ask him a few months ago if we were going to, he said no, we hadn’t planned on it, and that was pretty much that.
And as for my religion/faith, I think it’s better described as a spirituality that I have, and I have finally found the right words with which to express it. It’s not a rock-solid foundation that I turn to in times of need or weakness like many people have in their own spirituality, but it’s the sense that there’s something bigger than all of us out there keeping tabs on everything and maybe giving a little nudge here and there so things don’t get utterly cosmically out of whack.
I have no idea what happens at the end of it all, but it will work itself out when the time comes. And to me, that strange little notion is kind of comforting.
