Ignorant Superstition.
The Joy Report: Mother’s Day! This is the first mother’s day, I think, since becoming a mother, that is actually less rather than more work. Usually I am buried under dried play-dough figurines and expectations and all the same old chores and responsibilities, when what I really want is to run off to the movies by myself in honor of the day. But today! My kids made me go back to bed and made a meal that was actually delicious and nutritious (toast, easy-over fried eggs, banana coins, green tea), and stood at attention wearing Krispy Kreme Donut worker hats, waiting for their next instructions. And Peter, who normally abhors “holidays” like this, came through in a big way—Cirque de Soleil tickets! I have always wanted to go. He will dutifully submit to hours of watching hot men in tight tights doing remarkable things on wires and such, all for love of the mother of his children.
But seriously. Powerful oxytocin bursts, to be alive, and to be a mother to two of the funnest, sweetest kids.
Carmen just came in, breathless, to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day for the 37th time today.
~
It was a day or two before Easter, and Carmen and Rafe and I were chalking the sidewalk in front of church with our friend Steve; fun messages intended to lure people to church on Easter with their disarming sweetness.
“Bonnets and bow ties!” (naturally, we had the bow tie on a girl stick figure and a bonnet on the boy stick figure)
“If you went to church here, you’d be home now!”
and
“Get your new life here!”
Steve, who is taking a class in calligraphy, was working on the swirls in “Get Your New Life Here,” when a pedestrian walked by, and muttered, audibly,
“You mean ‘Get Your Ignorant Superstition Here.’”
Steve is incredibly laid-back and as kind as can be, and it just rolled off him. But I was my normal surly self, made even more surly by Holy Week Hormones (ask any pastor what these are! It is way worse than PMS), and it made me want to run down the street after the cynical hipster and kick him in his culotte-clad shins, and pull his carefully tousled hair. I was pissed.
I understand that people have been hurt by churches. I understand that our way of life as people of faith often doesn’t make much sense to others, that they don’t see the tangible benefits of belonging to a faith community, of voluntarily submitting oneself to the restrictions of a religious tradition. But really, do you have to try to poison it for us? If we are doing our best not to be racist, sexist, homophobic, hurting the environment, etcetera, with our religious practices, can’t you just respectfully agree to disagree, and leave us alone?
In my experience, people without a unified system of belief, or a religious community to practice in, are just as likely, and often more, to be ignorant and superstitious.
Exhibit A: that very same day, Good Friday, a woman from the community but not from our church, started emailing me mysteriously, asking for access to the sanctuary to pray. Then she upgraded to wanting a blessing from one of our ministers. I told her I’d be there all day for Good Friday vigil.
She came in, head down, slaloming through our modern take on the stations of the cross.
She looked hunted. Her story came out in bits and pieces. She had, out of curiosity, decided to go to a séance. Something went terribly wrong. The psychic was inexperienced and didn’t “close” the séance properly, and several bad spirits had apparently infected the woman. She was having sleep disturbances, terrible nightmares, and one day had in fact ‘lost’ about 4 hours—4 hours that she has no recollection of.
She went to see a Native American shaman, who felt the spirits and was able to rid her of two of them, but the last one was too dark and powerful. “You need to go see a minister or a priest for this one.” That is how she came to me.
She said, “I’m a scientist. I know this all sounds crazy.” I assured her, once you decide you believe in God: nothing sounds crazy. Everything is on the table.
“So, I need an exorcism, or a blessing, or something.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was a Congregationalist, that I was more familiar with Robert’s Rules of Order than I was with the liturgy for exorcism. But I would do the best I could.
I felt compassion for the woman, and also annoyance. How is it that people are so game to go around messing with dark forces (whether you believe in them or not)—and yet those same people are afraid to let God be in charge of even the smallest decisions of their lives? That they will go to a séance before going to a Bible study? Pay many dollars for a tarot reading, but say “the church is only interested in my money”?
Is it that the séance is cool, counterculture, and Christianity is tired old organized religion? Is it that the séance, the Ouija board, the circle-casting, lets us feel like we are in charge, and getting on our knees in prayer is humbling, nay, humiliating? What is wrong with being letting God have power over us? Lots of other people and forces, far less deserving, do.
I’m not slamming alternate ways to the Divine. My mother did astrological charts at flea markets to pay for groceries when we were growing up. I always thought it was cool—and still do. I wanted to be a witch when I was 16 years old, and regularly visited the occult supply store in north Cambridge—but I realized, not long after, that that power and connection I really craved was from God, who dwells within and without, and yes, sometimes even in churches.
I went to a newish AA meeting at our church the other night, to support some of my parishioners, and to see what it was all about. We went around the circle reading from the Big Book and, providentially (there are no coincidences!) this was my portion to read:
“We, who have traveled this dubious path, beg you to lay aside prejudice, even against organized religion. We have learned that whatever the human frailties of various faiths may be, those faiths have given purpose and direction to millions.
“People of faith have a logical idea of what life is all about. Actually, we used to have no reasonable conception whatever. We used to amuse ourselves by cynically dissecting spiritual beliefs and practices when we might have observed that many spiritually-minded persons of all races, colors and creeds were demonstrating a degree of stability, happiness and usefulness we should have sought ourselves.”
In the meeting, one of the guys quoted the Big Book and said, “We’re asked to give God a fair hearing. I finally decided—I’ve given everything else a fair hearing—why not God?”
~
Here we are at church, making a little magic—without potions. All we needed was a capital campaign, a lot of balloons, and some sweet sweet children—always easy marks when helium is involved. I love these people! The face of God, every week.
Yes, my hair is looking really cute. Thank you for saying so.
recent comments