A couple months ago, I started this as a draft to follow this post. With my new blog location, it’s time to reread it…post it…perhaps edit. For now, I’m just cutting/pasting.

======below was written in late April======

A post by the Angry Professor really got me thinking earlier this evening. So much of the childhood she recounted sounded familiar to me, and I agree with her about the results.

Unlike Angry Prof, I was party to my own indoctination. I always wanted to be the best…but it’s as if it never dawned on me to question the best what? My ladder was against the wall of religion, or charismania as I often call it. My folks never separated, but otherwise, she could be describing the church environment I grew up in. Secular music was evil. Church (also Assemblies of God) was Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night, and Friday youth group. I was part of the Sunday worship “team” and even lead the music for the youth on Wednesday nights. I remember people giving “prophecies in tongues”, dancing in the aisles, and being “slain in the spirit.”

(Funny story on that one — youth camp when I was 15, the main speaker had all the kids in a big circle surrounding the meeting hall. It was obvious he was applying physical pressure to each kid’s head so they’d be “slain.” Like all the others, I just went with it. A couple kids down from me was Angel, a brash, outspoken girl who wasn’t taking any BS. The pastor: “Quit resisting, quit resisting, feel the Lord’s power, quit resisting.” Angel, staring him dead on: “Well quit pushing!” God, how I envied that honesty!)

I devoured Chick tracts and comics the way that a freeway driver just HAS to slow down when they pass a wreck. The carnage was completely irresistable. Reading those, you’d think that the devil was so strong, so powerful, and ready to grab you at a moment’s notice…taking that whole “seeking who he may devour” language of the Bible to a whole new level. In retrospect, what I see now is that much of that particular brand of Christianity is completely driven by fear. Anything that was secular was to be avoided — it might somehow contaminate us. The sad thing is that when you’re working in a culture of fear, it’s so easy to give your brain up on a platter to whomever the “big guns” of the moment may be. If so-and-so is such a man of God, his opinion MUST be the Christian one, right?

As an example, just this past week, I received yet another e-mail from Focus on the Family (how I got on their email list is beyond me, and repeated unsub requests later I still hear from them). In this email, I was encouraged to join the righteous battle against activist judges and their anti-Christian agendas. What complete and utter bullshit. This current drive started with the terribly sad case of Terri Shiavo. To hear Frist and DeLay tell it, the judges who ruled in this case were the activists. This would mean that they were creating new law, when they’re only supposed to interpret and rule on existing law. Sorry folks, but you’re off on this one. The judges, in my opinion, are to be admired. Against enormous pressure, they DID THEIR JOBS. Whether I agree with Terri’s husband’s decision or not is irrelevant (and neither I nor anyone outside the family likely knows enough to judge). What IS relevant is Florida law, and the judges in this case upheld the law.

I digress…this was supposed to be about my childhood…but I suppose I can take it wherever I please, right? Back to history. We’ll return to the present in a bit.

We always went to church when I was young, but until I was 8 or so, that meant the Methodist church, a fairly “normal” way to pass a Sunday. Around that time, my folks went to a Full-Gospel Businessmen’s convention and found Charismania. We started going to a non-denominational church, then later to an Assemblies of God church. Of course, my memories aren’t perfect, but I do know this: until the summer after my freshman year in high school, I struggled with “backsliding.” The very concept of backsliding offends my understanding of how life and people operate. It assumes that “doing right” is a black and white affair. You’re either in, or you’re out. Anyway, I’d go to a youth camp, get fired up, and be a “good” Christian for a few weeks, months, whatever. Eventually, lured by the idea of perhaps being a normal kid…maybe even fitting in?…I’d regress and listen to secular music. I might even *gasp* say “shit” or some other damnable offense like that. Of course, I’d feel guilty about it, because fear and guilt were the driving motivators of church (there was love, yes, but it wasn’t the biggest driver!).

The summer after my freshman year in highschool, I effectively moved without moving…we started attending a different church (the AoG), and I transfered from a teeny private school to a much larger public school. That summer also marks the beginning of my music blackout period. For three years, until I left for college, I didn’t listen to secular music. At all. I was exposed to it here or there…dances and the like…but I didn’t seek it out. For me, who’d always been a music lover (I used to be the one who’d make “mix tapes” that had the best stuff, and I always knew what was new and hot first.) this was a big deal. Through the rest of high school, I immersed myself in church and church culture…because really, all I wanted was to be accepted. I wanted my parents to approve (they did). I wanted other kids to like me (they sometimes did, often didn’t). Overall, I just wanted some structure, some ladder to climb, so I could achieve. It never dawned on me to question the wall against which my ladder laid.

God, this is getting long, but it’s for me, not you…so if you’re reading, DEAL WITH IT.

The title of this post is Christianity versus Religion, so now to look into that topic: All through my church-crazy youth, I honestly never questioned why I believed what I believed. It was handed to me as fact, and it never even ocurred to me to wonder whether it was truth or not. My freshman year in college was an eye-opener — for the first time, I was around other kids who were really bright and driven to learn…and they questioned me. I wandered away from church and Christianity over the course of several years — it took a while for all the fear instilled in me to fade away. It took even longer for me to return to a desire for a strong Faith in my life.

That desire is there now, but I absolutely will not tolerate the sort of unquestioning idiocy with which I grew up. I find myself frustrated with the far-right religious nutjobs who’d like to claim Christianity for themselves. That’s not Christianity. It’s Religion. Christianity (literally “being Christ-like”) concerns itself with social justice. It feeds the poor. It loves all, and addresses people with compassion. It respects life — the whole cycle of life, including death. It doesn’t keep to itself in a weird, cliqueish sort of way. It doesn’t bash others over the head with dogma, but rather lives a life that makes people want the same spark and joy. Ironically, some of the people I’ve seen behaving in a most Christian manner don’t call themselves Christian. Some of the worst perpetrators of unChristian behavior attend church several times a week and live for what their religion has to say.

For the past couple of months, I’ve attended a group study of The Life Model on Monday nights. Overall, it’s been a good experience, and the principles taught in the book are really just based on sound psychology. Every once in a while, I’ll read something that will make my eyes roll (like seeing “Satanic Ritual Abuse” listed as a COMMON childhood trauma…HUH?), but I can look past things like that, and try to learn what I can. The past couple weeks have discussed the concept of “Belonging” (and how important it is to one’s emotional health), and I’ve laughed to myself about the irony of discussing belonging within a small group to which I clearly DON’T belong. People talk about their churches and I remember all of the things that I don’t miss. I don’t miss the facades of perfection. I don’t miss the cattiness. I don’t miss the emotional manipulation to get people to respond to an altar call.

The good news is that I’m at peace with where my relationship with God stands. I’ve found a church that suits me, and received a call from the senior pastor today inviting me to a inquirers/new member workshop in early May.

Back to the post by Angry Professor, a flood of emotion hit me as I read her words. The ones that stand out are sadness and anger. Sadness…for how the wacked-out dogma of religion screwed with my baby brain…for how I never questioned anything…for the frustrated, depressed teenage girl I was who just wanted to fit in. Anger…I’m not sure what/whom I’m angry at yet. I was never pushed into religion, so I don’t have the anger toward my parents that AP has toward her mother and stepfather. I chose my path. But I am angry.