08.19.07
Round Trip by Cherise Wyneken
I did not realize it the first time I read this one, but by the second time through, I realized this is practically a textbook case of progression through the stages. It has taken me a long time to figure out how to do the story justice in showing what it has to teach us. I have tried to add comments in bold print with a number referring to the stage that concept refers to. Forgive me if my attempts here seem jugmental, are too pat in their analysis, or otherwise fail to do justice to one of the most phenomenal mysteries of our existence. Its just that I think it is high time someone point out the phenomenon between Stage Two faith and Stage Four faith. (See my article, “Religious Development….for Dummies” for an explanation of the stages.) After all, if its just a matter of different stages, and if in between the stages exist a few atheists, then why can’t we just accept that others beliefs are different from ours and let them be! Please send me comments if you see a way for me to make this clearer. This article is excerpted from the author’s memoir, “Round Trip: Reflections On My Life and Rebellion.” More about her and her work can be seen at: http://www.authorsden.com/cherisewyneken
The congregation rose and turned toward the pastor as
he appeared in the doorway of the narthex. Their eyes
followed his progress down the aisle behind a white
robed acolyte bearing a mitered cross.
He’ll have us bowing to him next, I thought –
refusing to turn toward him all the way – or even look
at him. It seemed idolatrous enough to rise and
follow the Bible’s path up the aisle for the reading
of the Gospel. Why should I revere this man simply
because he supposedly represents Christ? Did Christ
ever presume such a place of honor or prance about in
tasseled robes and stoles? I felt myself flush, and –
ashamed that I had partly given in – I turned to face
the altar, which was draped in blue paraments like the
lectern, pulpit, and the pastor’s matching stole.
The organ played, “Veni, veni, Emmaneul. First Sunday
in Advent. The beginning of the church year. A time
of waiting – waiting for the Savior’s birth. How can
I wait for something that’s already happened? (beginning to doubt the details of her religion - Stage 3 concerns)
Purple candles adorned the special Advent holder,
hymns had been chosen from the Advent section of the
hymnal, choir and scripture readings all coordinated.
No poinsettias allowed in the chancel until Advent is
over, when blue paraments will be exchanged for red.
On and on it goes. Black for Good Friday. White for
Easter. Green for Trinity. Ups and downs – risings
and kneelings. Special spots to sign the cross.
Pre-packaged prayers and praise. (pre-packaged prayers belong to Stage 2 religion) Another whole year
of liturgical posturing. How did I ever get into this
in the first place? I feel like a robot – programmed
by the church. The preacher’s demeanor set me off
this morning – but there’s more to my revolt than
rituals and rites. Haven’t I been struggling with my
faith for a long time already?
Even as a child I doubted that our church had the one
true faith and all others were wrong – as I’d been
taught. Going so far in my innocence as to ask God to
show us, if and where we might be mistaken. Perhaps
he’s trying to show me now.
***
Sometime later I had a dream. Alone in my empty
chamber, I followed my own voice – searching every
vacant corner – calling out my name. I heard
something heavy fall. Echoes clattered on the outside
stairs. Following the sound, I found a French horn
case lying on a lakeside shore. I heard my voice
calling above the gentle lap of waves. Afraid I’d
find a body floating there – I turned into the
cellared darkness beneath the stilted house – calling
my name. The soil was dark and dank, lit by the
reflection of a black and white-faced skeleton
watching from a corner with an evil grin.
A quiver went up my spine like a tremor deep inside
the earth and woke me.
Am I really dead: a spiritual skeleton? I do all the
right things. Attend services regularly, teach
Vacation Bible School, help in the office, serve as
chairman of the women’s group. (stage 2 activities) Is that just a veneer
– the white side painted on? There used to be a
saying, “Please God – on the morrow we’ll do such and
such.” I seem to have it turned around – do such and
such and please God.
Like a soup bone simmering in a crock-pot, I had
become immersed in religion. The church was
everything to me – flavoring every aspect of my life:
choice of mate, child rearing, education,
relationships, use of time.
“Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul?” says
Oscar Wilde. Perhaps it’s time I try. Start from
scratch. Get away from the noise of the church’s
liturgical party. Slough off the robes and rituals,
the projects and good works. Go into the cellar of my
subconscious – like my dream suggested and find out
who I am. Why I do the things I do. What I believe. (beginning to question the details - beginning of Stage Three doubt and search for the truth)
What it is I’m objecting to? God or the church? Did
the church set me on the wrong track or was it my own
failing? And creeping in along the edges came my old
doubt – is there really such a thing as God?
My revolt began in earnest. I curled in a cozy
corner of my dean and began reading: Kiekegaarde,
Sanford, Nouwen, Lewis, Moore, Commentaries, and
others. (still looking for the truth - Stage Three)
As a teenager, before I could make my confession of
belief and acceptance of their doctrine, I was obliged
to study Luther’s Small Catechism where tenets are
taught through questions and answers. Answers are
accompanied by Bible verses aimed at proving the
statement inferred in the answer. In a dissertation
called, “The Sword of the Spirit,” Paul G. Bretscher
points out that the very catechism I had built my life
on was simply a product of my church. (this is what Stage Two faith is made up of) Other than
Luther, in reference to the main parts, no name is
given as to who compiled the questions or answers. By
what or whose authority were these issues presented?
My reading also revealed that our creeds and the
doctrine of the Trinity – created three hundred years
after Christ’s presence on earth – are products of
men’s interpretations and majority vote – leaving
others’ ideas by the wayside. What were those other
insights? Could they have been closer to Christ than
what we ended up with? Is the organized church
nothing but more than a man-made structure?
In the parable of the rich young man, Jesus told him
there is still one thing you lack. Sell all that you
own, and “come follow me.” Perhaps the “riches” that
I possess are the heritage of my church – the
fellowship, lovely music, people’s good thoughts about
me. Are these what hold me here?
Looking back it seemed that the church set up its own
agenda and told us this is how to work for God and his
Kingdom – stressing their interpretation of right and
wrong with minute details – much like the Old
Testament law that said it was a sin to eat an egg the
chicken had laid on the Sabbath. It led us to Jesus’
words – “deny yourself and take up your cross and
follow me,” then proceeded to specify how to do that,
spewing out rules to a general membership like a fire
hose baptism to a crowd in the church parking lot.
Tiles in the game of Scrabble, Christ and his
teachings were trapped on a game board, never getting
beyond the squares moved about by man. I tried to
walk on the narrow path that leads to God, but instead
of being free to reach out to those by the wayside –
to swing my arms, sing, hear the birds, smell the
grass, hear it sing – I was shackled to the church and
its agenda.
And so I did the unthinkable. I dropped my
membership and read on. (action typical of
Stage Three) I visited other churches,
trying to determine if it was just my brand of
Christianity that I objected to or if it was
Christianity in general. Images of the delicate,
ancient Biblical scrolls I had seen in London’s Tate
Museum returned, pointing to the precariousness of the
doctrine of inerrancy. The more I read the Gospels,
the more I questioned Christian dogma. Is the Bible
literally true or are many of its teachings
metaphorical? Is Jesus really God? If so, why did he
always refer to himself as God’s son? Did Jesus
actually rise bodily from the grave – or did God raise
him to his throne in spirit? Is heaven an actual
place? Do we really need it? Is hell real? Is God
real? If so, what is he really like? I read on.
And then I was introduced to Bishop Spong and his
writings: “Why Christianity Must Change Or Die,”
“Rescuing the Bible From Fundamentalism,” and “Born of
a Woman,” which speak directly to these questions.
Answers – with an in-depth twist. For weeks I was
tormented – desperate to know which interpretation was
“right.”
Marcus J. Borg puts it this way: “… the Christian
life moves beyond believing in God to being in
relationship to God.” (“Meeting Jesus Again For the
First Time”). To the scribes and Pharisees and people
of Jesus’ time, a relationship with God was
accomplished through an outer adherence to the Law. (This is “letter of the Law” religion - typical Stage Two stuff)
But God is a spirit. (Stage Four concept!!)Jesus is quoted as saying “the
Kingdom of God is within you,” (Luke17:21 KJV). (internal God - part of you - Stage Four concept!!!) Not a place we’ll reach some day, or a structure built of
creeds and dogmas, but an inner reality available,
here and now, to each as individuals.
Spong’s argument for the demise of the theistic –
Father image, God – who metes out blessings, left me
looking back on the God experience of my life. One in
which, in spite of wrong interpretations and turns, I
felt he had been there and helped me. Not because of
what I’d done or not done, but because I had trusted
him, took him up on his invitation to ask, and
received abundant life. I had begged God for true
faith and suddenly realized I’d had it all along.
But as Buddhist, Pema Chodron says in her book, When
Things Fall Apart, “The spiritual journey involves
going beyond hope and fear, stepping into the unknown
territory, continually moving forward.” (moving forward “toward the mystery” - Stage Four concept!) When I left
South Dakota as a girl, I was just at the age when I
was becoming aware of my faith. Instead of moving
forward I got stuck in the grips of fear – fear of
never doing enough for the Kingdom of God, never being
good enough, never being right. (Stage two religion is about fear and about “being right”) It was like I lived
my life in a specific room in the mansion of this
world. The walls were the fixed limits of doctrinal
interpretation. Everything I did was sounded off
those boards. Within the room I had access to God’s
throne and he responded to me in that constricted
area, but I began to feel trapped and deadened.
Jesus’ message was for all people. The Kingdom of God
is bigger than a man made organization called The
Church. It is a place within, ever growing and
expanding as each day brings its own opportunities or
limits. I still don’t understand all the mysteries ( does not need to have all the answers, but appreciates the mystery - Stage Four)
that surround God and Christ. But are we really meant
to? Isn’t the very idea of God vastly beyond all
man-made concepts of him?
And so I went back to that cherished girl in a small
Dakota town who was unable to believe that her church
was the only one that’s right A round trip back to a
simple belief in God.