Spiritual Musings

“Let a Christian follow the precepts of his own faith,
let a Hindu and a Jew follow theirs.  If they strive long enough,
they will ultimately discover God
who runs like a seam under the crusts of ritual and form.”

Swami Nikhilanandu

I found this quote on a calendar a couple of years ago, and it’s been on my frig ever since.  I have a long and sorted spiritual life.  Ever since I was young I feel as though I’ve been searching for God, or rather searching for more of God.  In my mind God is incomprehensible and impossible to know in total.  Words are too limited to express all God’s aspects.  Whether God is He, She, The Universal Mind, The Great Spirit, Jehovah, Allah, Athena, Diana, many expressions or one expression, the words are limiting. 

I believe there are as many ways to experience the divine as there are individuals on this earth (and maybe beyond).  I have experienced God through Jesus, so in that sense I practice Christianity.  I also believe in the teachings of Jesus, but I don’t accept that he is the only way to obtain salvation.  To many people, this means that I’m not a real Christian.  I do go to a church and some members might be shocked at some of the things I believe (or don’t believe), but I feel as though I worship with them as Jesus said, “in spirit and in truth.”  I don’t flaunt my beliefs or try to sway people.  I’m entitled to make my own choices as are those around me. 

This philosophy has been a long time coming.  At least it has taken a long time to get comfortable with it.  I grew up in, and still live in, the “Bible Belt”.  I was raised in the Methodist Church which is fairly liberal as far as denominations go.  But, in my teens, I was actively searching and visited other churches with friends.  I got “saved”, “baptized in the Holy Spirit”, spoke in tongues, and really involved with a singing group that spread the gospel of Jesus.  We sang in prisons, homes for boys and girls, and churches.  Eventually, this led to my involvement with a non-denominational church that purchased land in order to live together “in the new testament style.”  Yes, yes, I lived in a commune!  (It was the 70’s what can you expect.)  I taught school and lived with a family on “the farm.”  Needless to say my parents weren’t too happy, but at the time I moved out there, I was 21, and they had raised us to make our own choices. 

I lived there for a couple of years and through them met people who had a church in Pennsylvania.  They were also, nondenominational, and lived communally.  This group also did human rights work in Eastern Europe.  This, of course, was before the break up of the Soviet Union and the fall of the Berlin Wall.  I was really drawn to them, visited and finally moved up there to live with them and help in their work. 

This was the single most life changing experience I’ve ever had.  This group was much more “exclusive”.  I lived there for a year and a half.  It was a very difficult time for me for a number of reasons, which I may write more about some day.  But, suffice it to say, I ran away.  Literally!  I snuck out one morning (we lived way out in the country), hitch-hiked into Philadelphia, and took a bus home. 

When I left, I left believing that I was wrong, that I just couldn’t cut it.  I thought I loved God enough to lay down my life, but I seemed to always be making mistakes.  I had tried to leave twice before, by telling them I was going.  Each time this led to what I call an emotional beat down with me repenting for “who knows what” and trying again.  The night before I left they had kicked me out of the meeting, saying that I just wasn’t “right” spiritually and couldn’t take communion with them.  I was at a loss and didn’t know what to do.  I left the next morning. 

In the weeks that followed, they tried to contact me.  I spoke with them once and after that the friend I was staying with wouldn’t let them speak to me.  They told me that “I could NOT KNOW the will of God for myself.  The only way to know God’s will was through the church.”  This was blatantly different from what I believed in my heart and I began to come out of the despair that I felt when I left there.  My experience of God is just that, an experience.  True or False, It belongs to me.  It is as unique as I am and no one can take that away or tell me it’s wrong. 

It’s been twenty-five years.  It took me a while to recover and to begin to reap benefits from that life lesson.  I continued to look for something I couldn’t find, spending a long time in another church and then 10 years out of the church.  I finally realized that I would never find a group of people that believed all the things I did.  The best we can hope for is to have friends who love us and support us in following our path.  I have been blessed with these people.  Some are Christians, some pagan, some not religious, but spiritual, and some who don’t believe but respect that I do.  And yes, living in the Bible Belt, I also have friends who are fundamentalists, believe the Bible literally, and are afraid I’m wrong.  But we share the big things in common – a desire to know God and to love humanity. 

It’s been a long time since I let anyone tell me what to believe.  But, I’m finally getting to the place where it doesn’t make me angry when they try.  And I’m open to finding truth in whatever form it comes.  I must be true to my own conscience.  I may not be on the mark, but at least, if there is a Judgment Day, I won’t stand there and say I believed that because “the preacher said so!”

God bless and Blessed Be.