Unclean Lines

 

I went to church recently. Not temple, (Christian) church. This is not the norm for me. The congregation I worshiped with is one I have thought about visiting for a while. In truth, it’s a flock I used to belong to and worship with regularly. This community gathers at what is now known as Life Journey Church, click here to visit their site, but used to be called Jesus Metropolitan Community Church (JMCC). For anyone who isn’t already aware, the Metropolitan Community Church is a non-denominational sect of protestant Christianity that is not only welcoming of the LGBT population, but also is affirming. As such, the membership is usually primarily humans from the greater gay community – although there are also plenty of non-gay folks who attend, as well.

I first learned of the MCC while as a teen I began coming to terms with my sexuality and was also a very active Christian person. This was a tumultuous time in my life because my family isn’t Christian and Christians generally don’t like gays. So, quite honestly, I wasn’t sure what my future would hold and I anticipated being thrown out by one or both of these important parts of my life. As it turned out, only the Christians threw me out. (Not before putting me through the bogus-est of therapies. Calvary Baptist Church, click here for their site link, I think, had never had to deal with a problem like me.) During those difficult years, my backup plan was to run to the MCC for a kind of sanctuary, hoping that in my worst-case scenario, someone would help me. Had it come to that, I’m sure someone would have – luckily that wasn’t needed. This is in no small part because my family mostly kicks ass. I’m not sure exactly when JMCC changed its name to Life Journey or if the dropping of the “MCC” from the actual name indicates a separation from the larger MCC denomination, but I know I parted ways with the church after a chat with the then-and-now pastor, Jeff Miner.

The chat happened after a morning service. Something about the sermon hit me as being uncomfortable. This is probably due to my own personal development and spiritual growth and a growing feeling that Christianity simply wasn’t big enough. That morning, after the service, I filed in line with many others who hugged our pastor as we left the sanctuary, and while there I asked him about god greeting people at the so-called Pearly Gates. I don’t recall exactly, but his must have been mentioned in the sermon that day. I asked him if he thought it would be disturbing for a dead person to arrive at the gates to Heaven, expecting to see Ganesha or Vishnu or the Universal Mother or Nothing At All, but instead to be greeted by Jesus. He agreed that it probably would be disturbing. Our chat lasted only another minute or two and during that time he pretty well said that he believes god shows up in the manner expected by the soul.

That was the last time I attended that (or any other) church. I can play along in most scenarios when it serves a purpose. However, I couldn’t any longer rationalize buying into a religious practice that not only seemed too small for me, but the potential spirituality of which contradicted some of the actual religious structure. Pastor Jeff Miner is a fine person and a brilliant human being – everyone should get to know him. I mean it. But I couldn’t allow myself to continue to participate in a Jesus-centric mode of worship and living when the real and true Reality is that not only is Jesus not the “only way” for us to return home (and you bet your butt he isn’t), but also that whatever God is to whomever recognizes God, God will appear in that form. (Does that sentence read clearly?) I think I could be okay attending a church if it were a church that celebrated Mohammad and Ganesha and Zarathustra (Zoroaster) – equally. But that isn’t the case and it was the final nail in my Christian coffin that a “Jesus only” spiritual methodology had that element of hypocrisy. (Maybe hypocrisy isn’t the right word, but it sure feels like it.) “Jesus is the only way – unless you don’t recognize him – then god will manifest in another way.” Umm…. What? Really?

So I stopped attending and began developing myself as a Hindu. I’ve now spent more time as a Hindu than I did in my two stints as a Christian (couple years as a teen at Calvary Baptist and then a few more years as a young adult at JMCC), and I’ve yet to feel like I’m even remotely close (nor have even inched closer, at all) to outgrowing this path. Still, one thing I missed was my connection to the local gay community – which was primarily facilitated through JMCC. I don’t go to bars. At all, really. And aside from meeting people through other people or going to the bars or joining up some social group or something, the church was the next most logical way of connecting to my tribe. I missed that and still do. And so, I decided to be nosy and see what it’s like now. And I did that last Sunday. The building and many of the faces are mostly the same. The worship service is essentially no different.

Last week’s sermon dealt a lot with the book of Leviticus. More specifically, what made someone or something unclean. It was also noted that throughout the Bible, and especially in the Old Testament, the Jews are referred to as the “children” of god – never as any other kind of people. Always children. With that idea in mind, spiritual evolution was discussed throughout the sermon: We, as a collective, should be evolving beyond the child stage of development. Obviously, most of the references to these children of God are in the Old Testament, where much of the do’s and don’ts of Christianity fall as well. So there’s an association made here between being a child and needing rules. So-called rules are for those who aren’t as developed and still require (benefit from) a structure being imposed upon them. It sounds sweet to think of yourself as a child of god, but it’s not exactly a compliment. We’re told Jesus came to do away with those laws – to fulfill them – as a means of saying, “Guys, grow up! Stop being children.”

 

 

One example discussed in the sermon to illustrate this is the notion of something or someone being unclean. In those ancient days, observations were made: A bird flies. A mammal walks on the ground, and a fish swims. This is natural order. Natural order is, naturally, ordained by god at the time of creation – when He supposedly made birds to fly, mammals to walk, etc … And so, the math follows, if something deviates from this so-called natural order, there’s something terribly wrong. Thus storks and bats (the examples in the sermon) are unclean. Storks are birds that do fish things. And bats are mammals that do bird things. They violate god’s laws of nature and are therefore unclean. The photo in this post is of a Cheez-It product, CRUNCH’D, a cheese cracker – cheesy poof mixture that surely violates the natural order of all creation.

In just about as many ways as animals can be unclean (violate nature), so can humans also. The main example in the sermon, as it tied into the scriptural reading, was leprosy. The verses read by the congregation explained the process of suspecting and diagnosing leprosy. The process could last as few as seven days or as many as 21. The possibly-afflicted could end up being cleared. But if that soul were unlucky and actually had leprosy, then the rules required that person to wear torn clothing, keep visibly messy hair, sleep outside the limits of the city (a very dangerous thing), and wherever they walked they were required to cover their upper lip (with their hand) and shout ahead, “UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!” to broadcast that an untouchable person was near. It was understood that even their breath could spiritually contaminate someone else. To anyone, modern or ancient, scared of catching leprosy it probably doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea to have all those rules in place. You could easily know whether you were in danger of being dirtied by someone else. In those ancient days, though, leprosy wasn’t the only thing that could designate someone as being unclean. If you had any physical blemish what-so-ever then you were unclean. This included people who were disabled – whether from birth or due to age or an accident.

The catch here isn’t that unclean people were forced to do all the aforementioned things. Those are all pretty degrading, but the real rub is that they weren’t allowed in the presence of god – weren’t allowed into the temple, as such. So, someone with scoliosis or spina bifida or whose growth plates were injured as a child and had one limb shorter than the other – all unclean. If you’re autistic or have a hump in your back or are in a wheelchair – you’re simply not good enough for god, for life.

How screwed up is that? And it doesn’t stop there. Like birds that dive and swim as a fish would, men who love men (as women were designed to do) were likewise stepping out of the line and file intended at creation’s start – unclean. Same goes for women who love women as men were designed to do. And god help you if you were transgender – except you would be too unclean for god to help. Then, as we all know, Jesus came to be among humans and not only touched lepers but also made great efforts at setting the record straight on what supposedly defiles a person and what doesn’t. Thank god for Jesus. Right? Not me. I mean, not really. I don’t doubt that Jesus was one of humanity’s many guiding lights, but I don’t go any further than that with him – not anymore. If Ganesha can’t score me front row seats in Heaven, then I don’t know how somebody with half as many hands is going to do it.

So, it was a good lesson delivered in the sermon. For sure. And it was nice to be with those like myself. For sure. But my visit to the church served mostly to remind me of why I no longer follow the Christian Dharma. As heart-felt and genuine as I think a lot of it actually is for those congregants, it still felt almost wholly juvenile and somewhat ridiculous. It felt emotionally imbalanced and smelled of enslavement – tragic for a path preaching freedom through Christ. If Christians are people who have been washed clean and set free through Christ’s blood, then why in the world do so many of them feel threatened or “against” so much of life?

And now my conundrum: I obviously can’t worship there. So much of everything said or practiced under that roof makes me roll my eyes so hard I get a migraine. And besides that, I’ve been clear that it stopped being a good fit over a decade ago. But it was nice to be around other gays – something that happens very rarely for me. Although, these gays aren’t the ones I have the most in common with, whatever that means. I’m just not sure I want a ton of friends who attribute every life challenge or misfortune to Satan or who think they need someone else to pay for their own actions. Plus it’ll be something my husband will never join me in because he has zero tolerance for that kind of bullcrap. So… Do I return? I’m thinking I might – for entertainment, if nothing else. But surely there will be something else.

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha | Aum Shanti

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Solstice Day After

Servants of Christ Lutheran Church

Last weekend was one high in religiousness and spirituality.

Saturday was the monthly Gansha Sankashti I observe and was also the Winter Solstice – a day that yearly surprises me at how early it seems to come. And Sunday, at the request of a dear friend, I visited a Lutheran church for the congregation’s Advent concert.

The church is called Servants of Christ Lutheran Church, it’s about 20 minutes from my home, and their website can be found here. The friend who invited me is one I’ve mentioned before and despite our sometimes enormous differences, she remains someone very dear to me. I think, knowing what I know about her, that this isn’t likely to ever change. People will always be in my heart.

This church experience was fabulous. And I mean it. I don’t know that it played into my experience at all, but I genuinely felt welcome. I shook the hands of only one or two people as I entered and not fifteen feet inside the main entrance I was hardly getting to ask if someone (a random person I grabbed on to) knew where my friend was when I heard, “Hi Josh!” and found myself in one of the best hugs ever. A mom hug.

Soon enough I was seated in a pew with my friend’s family – something I was glad for because otherwise I was only going to grab the first empty place I saw, and I’m already well aware that every church family has their favorite seating.

In addition to the family members I sat with there were only two other people in our pew – a seniorly couple. For as long as I live I’ll never forget these two, particularly the wife. She welcomed me, once, briefly but warmly and calling me “friend.” At another time, when congregants were shaking hands and “sharing” with each other peace, she took my right hand in both of hers and said sweetly with a smile something along the lines of, “Peace to you, friend.” We interacted once more when she was returning from communion – we both laughed as I quickly and briefly placed both of my legs up into the pew so she and her husband could pass me while returning their seats. I think the effort I went to – so suddenly – to allow her to pass easily somehow tickled her.

The music was great. A mixture, really. Very classy and classical. It included performances by the handbell choir, which my friend is a part of. Such an interesting instrument! My favorite ones are those that sound off a deeper tone.

I recall some of the scripture read during the service. Various parts of the old and new testaments. Nothing super challenging, but I remember noticing a difference between my interpretation and that understood by the church. Still, I experienced beauty even in those times.

One of the greatest things I took from the experience will also follow me for a very long time. I felt welcome. Sincerely, even. People called me friend, and it really felt genuine. There have been many times in my life, while surrounded by Christians, when I was welcomed with smiles and handshakes and being called things like “friend” …and it didn’t feel like this.

For someone like me, formally hated by most of the church in its various forms worldwide – even to the point that in some places these same people would even possibly go so far as to beat me to near death with a board before dousing me in kerosene and cremating me alive – to be greeted in the spirit I was greeted, could literally mean the difference between life and death. Whether at the hands of those others or at my own hands.

It wasn’t overkill – like they were just trying to make sure I’d come back. It wasn’t a technicality being met – like so many churches that are more about numbers and warm bodies than anything else. (I’ve known those churches all too well and they are, sadly, the majority.) And when the old woman shared peace with me, I received it. I really received it. Really. These things could make a difference in the life of anyone visiting, but for someone like me – who was once literally kicked out of a church and continues to be considered a second-class citizen (and often worse!) in large part because of the church’s views and unwillingness to stay out of government – it makes an immense difference.

It will be a long – long – time before I’m “into” Christianity again. I think the church as a whole has much evolving to do. And to be honest, if it fully evolved over night, there are still wounds that only time can heal. Probably entire generations of people like myself would need to come and pass before the church’s long history with violence against gays can be swept under the so-called rug. But if there’s a place where this evolution might already be in process, Servants of Christ Lutheran Church could be it.

Aum namo christaya namah
Aum namo mitraya namaha
Aum namo christaya namah

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha
Aum Shanti

Cupid Schmupid

A few days ago, on Facebook, a best of mine posted a mostly bitter status update that sounded like a moody teenager. He ranted about Valentine’s Day. He’s single and while he does very well without a “better half,” he would much rather have it. His post, in his own words, amounted to the sum of a very whiney “It’s a stupid holiday.” One person commented with something like, “Agreed! It’s just a stupid commercial holiday anyway.”

Umm… ALL holiday’s are commercial. Literally. Unless there’s a holiday that doesn’t involve you going to any store for any reason, it’s commercial. So, since commercialism is the ruin of all holidays let’s throw them all out, yeah? No. Regardless of the origin of any given holiday, or the degree of commercialism involved, each and every holiday is what you make it – and it’s also what you don’t make it. I see a strange parallel here to karma.

If for you, Christmas is about the birth of your Satguru (Jesus), then that should be your focus during that celebratory time. If, for you, Christmas means shopping … so be it. Although both approaches hold different value, neither approach is less valid. The same can be said about any holiday, including Valentine’s Day. Lamenting the apparent commercialism of a holiday simply implies that you have lost your own sight or that you sense you’re left behind by the progression of the holiday through time and culture – in which case I might suggest you re-evaluate what you actually think the holiday means to you, because something like this likely indicates you’re actual conflict is with yourself. All holidays undergo evolution just like religions and people and life in general.

In the world of phenomena, where we live and operate, anything that hopes to remain must be able to change. Shiva, the god of destruction, doesn’t destroy life, He allows for and encourages its continuance! Anything that is preserved as it was is stagnate and in the process of decline and death, or never possessed life. Change is a primary symptom of life and often indicates growth. Paradoxically, while we often equate change with destruction, nothing can exist if it doesn’t change, and the destruction we perceive is usually that of the subtle attachments we held for something that was never meant to last, or at least wasn’t really ours to be attached to. That which ceases to change – or at least seems to maintain – might seem preserved, and possibly for a short time it is, but there’s no actual power in this, and ultimately it becomes outdated, ineffective, and petrified – much like some people’s views of holidays.

Off with their heads!

So… the Denver shooting tragedy is all over the news and will be for some time, I suspect. In the clinic I work at, people have been very vocal regarding their opinions on what should be done with the Joker. I think partially because of the time we live in and partially because of the area of the USA I live in, many many folks have expressed their view that killing the man who killed others is the only way to make anything right. This is very “Old Testament,” very eye-for-an-eye, and I suppose it’s very human.

I need to say something about this, but without using my words. I’ll be using someone else’s. What’s shared below is the response I received from my beloved, who’s non-religious in every sense, when I asked him, “What do you think of the death penalty?” (This question was asked specifically in the context of the Denver shooting.)

I’m against the death penalty, for a variety of reasons.

Mostly because we are supposed to be a humane society.  Regardless of what someone does, it does not justify killing that person.  How are we any better than the criminal if we treat him in a similarly cruel way?  The death penalty is abused, used too often, and way too celebrated.  It’s the modern-day version of having all the people in a town chase someone with torches and pitchforks and lynching him.

Second, in a way, it allows the criminal off easy.  Rather than having to spend the rest of his days in confinement in an undesirable living situation, he gets to just have it ended.  It seems that a lot more satisfaction should be gotten out of knowing that a person who did a heinous crime has to spend the rest of his life in a prison, not allowed to enjoy the freedom the rest of us have.

Third, if we are supposed to be a “Christian country,” then everyone should hate the idea of the death penalty and it should be outlawed.  It goes against all of the ideas that Jesus taught, and how can someone claim to be a good Christian and still be completely FOR the death penalty.  Somehow it’s possible, because Christians seem to be the largest group who just love the death penalty. 

Lastly, I just think it’s morally wrong.  If we are supposed to have compassion, then how can we be happy to know that we kill anyone, regardless of what they have done?  I can completely understand how someone who has had someone taken from them can feel like they want the person who killed them to be killed as well.  That’s why we have laws and a justice system, so that we don’t take the law into our own hands and let emotions drive our decisions.  Any time I hear of a person/family who chooses to NOT seek the death penalty for someone, I have great respect for them, because they are able to overcome their own grief and do the right thing, and be better than the killer by showing them compassion.

What he’s saying above isn’t rocket science. It’s common sense, which actually leads to a very elevated and compassionate state of mind and action.

Christians(Abrahamists) aren’t the only ones who stumble here. I’ve been reading a book by an American guru. By virtually every account he’s incredible. He’s very well-educated both in western sciences as well as in so many things Vedic. He wrote a book, a manifesto which I’ll be bloggering about soon enough, in which he pretty much lays out what he sees as the revolutionary foundations for a new global and dharmic society. In this manifesto, he says so many things I couldn’t agree more with. Among other things, something he says that I fully disagree with is that the death penalty is dharmic.

I’m no guru, but I’m confident that even if you toss out the concept of ahimsa there’s plenty within our Dharma that counters something like the death penalty.

On that note, I’ll close by re-iterating what my beloved said and encourage you, reader, to give up the idea of killing another as any form of vengeance or retribution. It simply doesn’t work the way you think, and also brings you to the same level as the original transgressor. Be reasonable. Be compassionate. Be humane.

Be truly better than those you so despise.

Om shanti

Neti, Neti(Neti)

It’s pretty much been a month since I last wrote here. No good reason exists for this, really, aside from sometimes I feel like I’m about to pop and need to step back from a number of things. As much as I enjoy having a presence here, and as much as I enjoy hearing from you all on here, bloggering is currently an easy thing to step back from. So, with that said, please excuse my distance and my silence, and thanks for continuing to read my words.

The saying, “Neti, Neti” means essentially, “Not this, not that” and is employed be jnanis, among others, in the process of discerning Brahman’s nature and attributes. Because of the absoluteness of Brahman, a truer and truthfully more accurate way of knowing Truth is often found in knowing what Truth is not, thus, Neti-Neti. I sometimes use this when asked where I want to eat for dinner. I might not know what I’m in the mood for, but I can usually tell you what I’m not in the mood for, and so the process of refinement begins as to where dinner will be served.

I feel this concept applies to each of us as we’re on our journey toward Self-Realization, toward our real Nature which is Brahman. Obviously, because of our egos and individual experiences and individual karmas, the most base application of Neti-Neti is as it pertains to our minute, personal, human experience.

In that context, as far as my personal experience of Brahman in my life, I tend to view the episodes in my life as part of this process of elimination/refinement. I have an experience. Does it point to Truth or doesn’t it? Hinting at Truth is something everything everywhere does, so that doesn’t count. But does an experience, or a person, or dogma, or anything…does it definitively point to Truth? If not, learn from it and move on. Such is the case, in my life, for Christianity.

A co-worker, as part of our discussion today, stated that Mormonism is an un-Christian cult. I suppose if I looked more into it I might could agree with this, but that would be irrelevant. For the sake of balance, I responded that in it’s beginning what we now call Christianity was viewed as no different by folks who weren’t Christians. They were indeed, a small dissenting group of people who wandered around claiming their leader is God. Mormons were never fed to lions by the Romans for entertainment, but otherwise there are actually quite a number of parallels between the Mormons and the rest of Christianity. My co-worker didn’t care for these remarks and the conversation ended quickly. Apparently what’s good for the goose isn’t good for the… goose.

I’m currently taking a humanities class in which, as part of a recent assignment, I’m basically being asked to pretend I’m either Christian or Jewish. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice to say I’m not happy. The concept is just fuzzy enough that the school can get away with it, but the work is still clear. I think part of what’s so vile about this assignment, beyond pretending to be something I’m not, is that I have to pretend to promote and condone what I don’t agree with. Sugar on top? One of my co-students and team mate on this project is a middle-aged woman who is unapologetically Christian and when we were hashing out responsibilities for this project she was quick to point out that not only is Christianity the only religion on the planet that encompasses all others, but that the cross is the only religious symbol which is found in all other religions.

Jesus-Fucking-Christ… this is what I’m dealing with. Before this class is over, there may well be a scene because after allowing my toes to be stepped on a few times by the school’s curriculum and classmates’ remarks, I’m actually quite liable to tell a bitch to go to hell and slide her some hand-written directions.

So, the convsersation today… class work from last week… Now let’s back up quite a bit. Let’s revisit my teen years briefly.

For a short time, during my teens, I was the only Christian in my family. To say I was a monster for Jesus would probably be something of an understatement. My intentions were as noble as they come, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t also vile at their source. I’ll spare most of the details, because they amount to this: I was about as typical as it could get for being a zealous Christian teen. The only way it would have been worse is if my parents were Christian, too.

This business lasted a few years until I was around 17 or close to 18. It was just before 18 that I began makng it known to my church youth group that I found a lot of evidence that the Bible/Jesus/God didn’t condemn gays. I was doing this rather gently and secretly because I intended to work my way into a position to come out to them. However, the youth pastor decided to nip the whole thing in the bud(butt?) and called me to his home one evening.

Sitting in his library, he said it’d been brought to his attention that I was spreading “false doctrine.” I explained, as best I could for being neither an adult nor a Bible scholar, that I didn’t believe Christianity condemned gays. His next move was to asked, “Do you consider yourself a homosexual?” I answered in the affirmative. Upon receiving that answer, he assured me, “There’s no place in the youth group, or anywhere else in the church, for someone like you.”

Sitting on his couch alone, and virtually defenseless, I could do nothing by look toward my feet and begin to sob. In the years leading up to this moment, I had actually done more than plenty to distance myself from my family-for the sake of Jesus. And here, an actual man of god was dismissing me entirely. The following months brought the best that church could offer in “therapy,” which amount to nothing. I had already cried myself to sleep numerous nights because I didn’t understand why I am gay. I sought out hetero porn, thinking it might “stick” and change my inclinations. I had girlfriends. I prayed at home, hidden in my bedroom’s closet (irony, no!?!?), the most private place I knew… and I’d prayed down front at my church’s altar. Nothing-which I’m so very thankful for.

I know many good people. Very very dear people to me, who happen to be Christians. Many of these folks would claim people like those others “aren’t real Christians.” That’s simply not true, though. These Christians who are dear to me, I think exhibit the purest Christianity, but chances are great that the vast majority of all the other fellow Christians on this planet still say my old church is correct. In fact I know this to be true, even in my life today. It wasn’t enough that I was literally kicked out as a teen (I had to sign some paper, too, after being asked “one last time”), but now as an adult Christians are the leading reason for why I’m unable to marry the man I’ve dedicated the biggest chunk of my adult life to.

As disappointing as this is going to sound, and forgive me for sounding jaded/hurt/judgemental, I’m convinced that nearly everything Abrahamic is violent and destructive. Throughout world history, into today, and in many places in my own life this has been the truth of experience. When I consciously and conscientiously seek Brahman, and encounter most things Abrahamic, the “still small voice” within invariably chants, “Neti, Neti.”

Om Shanti