Monday, June 4, 2012
Spirit and Religiousity
I'm struggling with religiousity. In this case, questioning my own religiousity-essness.
I never really understood the extent religion could be misused at the personal level in unhealthy ways, just like any other patterned thoughts and behaviors, until my mid-40’s. It wasn't until attending Loyola in Maryland's Pastoral Counseling program that the subject came into clearer focus.
How is one's religious ideas helpful - to themself and others - and when are they not?
This feels like it is coming to a head since I keep trying to figure out why I live such a small life as a pastoral counselor. My identity is tied to this question in profound ways. I didn't just become involved in spiritual work, I grew up in a family with a complex set of messages around religion, work, and connection to community.
At my Quaker meeting a few months ago, I spoke at meeting for worship.
First another woman spoke up about her conviction that the Genesis story blames Eve for original sin and that it is still with us today. She asked what to do about it. She sounded pretty upset by the state of affairs for women, especially when it seems women's rights are losing ground in the United States and particularly in the meeting's home state of Virginia.
I felt moved to speak from a place of personal experience - that radical place where George Fox spoke about the Living Word which took him beyond what the words said in the Bible, and encouraged people to experience the Living Word for themselves.
(Fox's quote can be found at: http://www.qis.net/~daruma/foxfell.html )
I spoke about the life-changing experiences of giving birth to my daughters at home. Not only was I testing my faith in a loving God and my body, but I knew that the research on homebirth challenged the fearmongers.
My own daughters were born at home, despite my family’s doubt. But most important, my experiences of those births were not the painful, dreadful events that had been impressed upon me. The first birth took place in less than 7 hours from the water breaking to birth. The second birth was 3 1/2 hours from beginning to end. I likened the physical experience to having the flu.
Most remarkably, the second birth also had elements of pleasure!
How could that be? Paradoxically, as the baby came out with her hand beside her face, I stretched more, feeling like I was giving birth to a rock. But this same stretch also brought about tingling and pleasure. No one ever told me this was possible!
My point in sharing this story simply was to test the text (Genesis) with my own lived experience. How does this square with the overarching message of freedom through faith in the Spirit? Fox points to God's word, yet parts of the Bible don't make sense from a literal perspective. He interpreted scripture in his on unique way, which includes the unique position of women in ministry since the 1600's.
I found other texts to be useful. The Hindu-influenced book, "Spiritual Midwifery," prepared my heart and mind and body so that I could more fully experience birth, including the pleasure - one not bound by a Judeo-Christian mindset. It helped that Sheila Kitzinger's work, a social anthropologist studying women's experiences of birth and nursing, was available to help me make sense of my experiences. Later I would learn that the Buddha also encouraged people to test for oneself to see what is true.
This experience radicalized my faith. It shifted my understanding of the Biblical narrative. I was a young mother, but was developing a Feminist understanding of theology. Who wrote these oral stories? What was the purpose or message implied? Who was served by the stories? Who was left out? What do they say about the human experience?
After we left meeting for worship, my Partner said in a very kind voice that he had noticed an edge in my voice when giving the message. It was a question about whether my voice was changing or if I was missing tenderness or if there was something else going on.
Truly, I don't know, but it feels like all three could be true. My throat has been bothering me; I often have to strain my voice to talk to loved ones with hearing loss. Then there was the was lack of tenderness in my message - the anger that 30 years later and there is still an assault on women and homebirths.
But, when Partner said something about the edge in my voice, I immediately experienced it as my mother's voice. I was taken back to the piercing element of her words as she recently talked about contacting my grandfather's half-sister about my grandmother's death - someone who hasn't been in contact with the family for decades - and then, she added that the husband was affiliated with a hate group. Did the sister share her husband's beliefs? Did she encourage and enable violence? Why did my mom feel compelled to tell me about this? Was this a message related to my life's work?
At a time when the Southern Poverty Law Center cites record numbers of hate and extremist groups, I can really scare myself and get angry about it. It's never as far removed as we think. I just had no idea the level until my grandmother's death. It's in the family tree.
Later, I thought of a news story I heard this past week of the Sande Society in Liberia still having bush schools to train their girls to be good wives. Part of their initiation involves female circumcision. For more on this, go to:
http://www.theworld.org/2012/03/female-genital-circumcision-temporarily-stopped-in-liberia/ Nothing like taking away any potential God-given pleasure sources for women.
There are so many excuses for threatening and imposing one’s misguided beliefs on another. It’s exhausting to hold the many stories I come across in my work, let alone the ones I carry in my heart from my family.
Coming home, I experienced a continuation of feeling frustrated, anxious, and lost.
The kingdom of God is within. The kingdom of God is within. The kingdom of God is within. I look around at the trees and flowers and honeysuckle and think of my home. For a brief moment, I realize that there is too much to do and I am paralyzed with grief.
In the midst of all of this internal drama, my thinking becomes clouded. Is my searching for meaning and purpose lost in self-absorption? How can I be useful if I am not open and loving? Is anger masking depression which is masking hurt? Is this just self-doubt because I shared something personal and made myself vulnerable to the meeting, a group I sometimes see as privileged or different or judging? Am I doing the old finger pointing outwardly trick when I need to examine my own issues? Do I need to be doing anything?
Yet, I seem to be driven to be useful or helpful.
One of my greatest fears is hurting others. Yet, I don't know how to live or be myself without hurting others. Is it even possible? My faith and clinical skills seem to be particularly lacking here. One thought is to relax and let God be in charge. Yet, the fear of inviting more difficulty seeps into my consciousness, the fear of being tested.
Sometimes I just want to meditate and pray (more religiousity?). Other times I just want to be someone else. My weaknesses kick in and I find myself in the kitchen or reading books or sitting at the harp. On a good day, I go for a walk. And, in moments of clarity, I can see that God doesn't care about my religiousity. It's something I put on myself.
One way through this mess is to follow my own admonition and seek out clarity through connection with others from my faith community. I need to test the health of my thinking and behavior. The antidote to obsessive thinking is opening this up to the Light with those who care for both me and the beloved community.
You'd think giving up the yoke would be easy! But what yoke am I giving up? Labels? Roles? Religiousity? Pastoral counselor? Quaker? Woman? Hopefully, I'm ready to give up whatever is no longer useful for I still live in this world and in this body.
Didn't Jesus die on the cross for our freedom?
Labels:
birth,
Eve,
George Fox,
Quaker Worship,
religiousity,
speak up,
spirituality,
vocal ministry,
women in the Bible
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ReplyDeleteIt's not a journey, it's a struggle. You've got me thinking about how there never is a final "answer"--at least for me, and it seems for you. No answers, just more puzzles. Parker Palmer has a new book out on the value to be found in the struggle itself. The itchy places go stop itching after a while so you can scratch a new place.
ReplyDeleteBut, I ramble.
Love this blog!
Vic