Launching a More Daring Spiritual Journey- Part I

 

 

Scouting the Frontier

Some people are never satisfied with the status quo! That would be yours truly- right at the top of the list.  Intellectually curious was what I was dubbed early on, and it seems to be an essential part of who I am.

Is there some gene that boots that into being?

What makes some people spend their lives wondering and asking questions, and others be perfectly content to be right where they are, and not into pondering?

Even some teachers are not overly ecstatic by having their wisdom and presentation debated or questions asked. I thought everyone wanted to know more, until gradually I discovered that was not the case.

But hey-We are who we are, right?

 

Pushing the Boundaries

But this blog is about and for those who DO wonder and ponder and question and doubt. It’s about pushing the boundaries back and searching for answers that are meaningful and life-sustaining for each of us.

• • It’s about daring to ask the big questions-
  • about looking into the face of the improbable and the suspect-
  • about digging deep beneath the surface and reclaiming a belief system that can nourish you and enable spiritual growth-
  • about continuing the journey and treasuring the insights that come along.

But…new information, discoveries and insights don’t whip you from A-Z. Discovering A lights you up.  You rush onto B- you stumble onto C, strive for D, you struggle on to E, giant leap to F and so forth.  And each one builds on the one before.

 

Walkin’ on the Edge

I’m thinking about when, as an adult, I started seriously pushing my religious beliefs to the limit and how I was so afraid of wandering too far lest I was no longer considered a Christian.

Maybe I was buying into a whole lot of weird theologies, and totally losing not only my faith, but me as well! It took a long time to see that what I was acquiring was actually stretching me and increasing my faith.

But, at the same time, I was afraid of losing my friends and community , I had found a place where I seemed to fit, and I was comfortable there.

Moving beyond that was scary and I was panicked that I might no longer be a part of that group. But in a sense, I had already moved on and that was so lonely and disquieting. I felt lost in limbo!

Yet I was feeling that I had to keep moving.

Spiritual growth is sure NOT a one shot thing. You have flashes of insight- then you follow the flicker.  That brings you one step closer.

Made in the Shade!

When I had made the step to a more committed inquiry I went to all these different classes and churches- Took notes- asked questions- thought I’d at last found THE TRUTH.

I thought I finally had it.

I thought I had this spiritual thing figured out, and that I had reached the summit. I wouldn’t have to wonder so much anymore. The rest of my life could be lived in confidence and affirmation. No more striving and groping and questing!

I’m sure the universe rolled around laughing hysterically.

That inquisitive mind of mine did not let me rest on any plateau. Nope instead it kept pushing me out of my comfort zone until the horizon wasn’t even visible.

 

Pick One- Audacity or Heel-Dragging

How many of you can relate? Anyone else ever felt like they have moved way beyond what they first thought possible?

And you know what gets in the way and holds us back???

• • • afraid of being incorrect,
    • of wandering away from our childhood beliefs,
    • fearing the collapse of whatever foundation we’ve built our beliefs upon
    • and being afraid of not having anything to hold onto

All are determents to moving ahead and growing

Yet we dig in our heels and try to hold on to, and affirm even harder what we don’t really believe any more.

The Journey- Part I- The Early Years

Maybe I should backtrack. Perhaps you can relate, or at least realize that others have struggled as well.

This journey started for me as a youngster. Certain things stand out in my mind and I can remember back pretty far.  I always went to Sunday School.  Can’t remember the lessons, per se, but I do recall feeling compassion for several kids and my teacher- who was God’s ugliest person.

Home wasn’t especially religious. We said grace at dinner, and this awful night-time prayer:

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

That’s a damn scary prayer for a kid! Made you not want to close your eyes at all!

I wasn’t a particularly easy kid to raise. I was always imaginative and inquisitive, and curious.  I liked trying out all sorts of things, which drove my mom nuts!

By the time I was 12, one hour of Sunday School wasn’t enough for me. I wanted a faith around which my life could center.

In school we read a book called One God, about Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, and I was fascinated by the beliefs and practices of different faiths.

I was particularly envious of Catholics- they went to parochial school, and mass every Sunday, and it seemed they were always celebrating some saint’s day or other.

I sweet-talked a younger neighbor boy into taking me to mass with him. I whispered to him the whole time.  “Why is the priest doing that?  How come no one is singing?  Why all the kneeling?  How come I couldn’t take communion?”

Mass wasn’t over soon enough for him, and he never offered to take me again.

I seriously considered converting and becoming a Catholic, but on doing some more reading, I found there were things they believed that I couldn’t go along with.  Did my parents have any inkling of my deliberation?  Nope!

Shortly thereafter, my class at my Sunday School began preparing for confirmation to join the church. I was bored with so much rote learning that wasn’t answering my questions at all, and so I cut a bunch of classes.

Eventually my absences caught up with me, and my parents were informed that unless I attended a private all day Saturday make-up session with the pastor I would not be confirmed along with my class.

Guess who insisted I go, and drove me there, and watched me walk into the building? I wasn’t a happy camper, but I do remember feeling bad that I caused this busy man to give up his day off.

Consequently, I wasn’t left behind, and joined on schedule. Didn’t mean all that much to me at the time.  However, years later, when I was going through a whole rethinking of where I stood belief-wise, it came to mean a good deal.

The school I attended had daily chapel services, and by the time I graduated, I knew all the hymns, and a bunch of scripture as well. I don’t remember that having any particular impact- it just was part of the usual routine.

The other thing I remember from that time was sitting in a church service, listening to the sermon, and thinking- Man! I could preach a better sermon than that.

Such is the know-it-all attitude of young teens. But looking back, it was sure prophetic!

 

Upon graduation, I went off to Wilson College-which was connected to the Presbyterian Church. We had chapel a number of days a week where attendance was required and attendance taken, and a mandatory introductory class in Bible history.

I loved it all. Best four years of my life!

But religious investigation took a backseat to keeping up with classes, sports, drama club and generally having a great time, while unfortunately putting on weight.

By the time I graduated, all the religious sizzle was pretty much non-existent. Now I had to find a job and get on with building my life, and that constant, insistent nudge to seek after truth was stilled…for a while.

 

Are you a searcher? Does any of this resonate with you?  Sure would love to know.  Write a comment.