I was a faithful member of the United Methodist Church from
the age of 12 until I was 18 and in college. When I left, for good in my mind,
at the age of 19, I told myself that I was a leaving behind a church that
condemned me, a religion that left me malnourished, and a God who had forsaken
me for eternity. In a period of less than two years, my spiritual journey led
me along a path from doubting Christian, to anti-religious atheist, to
inquisitive Unitarian Universalist. My dalliance with atheism was short-lived
and half-hearted, and my embrace of Unitarian Universalism was initially borne
of gratitude for discovering a way to be religious that allowed me to be rid of
the Christianity that I’d left behind me. I have now been a Unitarian
Universalist for 18 years – at 36 years old that’s half my life so far, following
the 18 years I was a professing Christian, and threefold the years I belonged
to the United Methodist Church with which I identified for so long. A lot about
my theology and my religious outlook has changed in all that time, and I continue to reassess
my beliefs as I age and have more life experience.
I remember a class called “The New UU” that I took at the
first UU congregation I would join on my new path, which is now called the
Unitarian Universalist Congregation at Montclair (NJ). In one of the early
sessions, a gay former Catholic got into a heated debate with the minister
leading the discussion about the role of ritual in Unitarian Universalism. This
man was angry at even the merest suggestion that what would be his newfound
faith should in any way resemble the one which had scarred him, which meant
that there was absolutely no room for ritual of any sort, or even the word
ritual
itself. At the time, I thought he was being ridiculous; but in him I recognized
the hurt that I, too, was feeling as a gay man ostracized by the faith of my upbringing.
Who was I to judge him? Unfortunately, he did not find what he was looking for
that evening, so he got up in a huff mid-class and he left. I sometimes wonder
where his journey led him after that night. As for me, I decided that
religion was still a worthwhile pursuit and I chose to remain.
My early years as a Unitarian Universalist were ones in
which I was comfortable being dismissive of Christianity and also being around
others who were equally or more dismissive. For a modern movement whose roots
lie in two Christian denominations, it bewilders me how much we have come to
embrace an overall disdain for our origins. Granted, I appreciated this
tendency at first; but my years of study and open encounter with those UU’s who
would still follow Jesus, not to mention my separation from the particularist and
fundamentalist interpretations of the Bible that I’d fled, rendered me less
hostile to the faith of my upbringing than I’d once been. Reading the works of
Marcus Borg, whom I declared to be my favorite theologian upon his death just a
year ago, was a great influence on my willingness to not disregard and discard
all the good that I’d known within Christianity. In my experience, many
Unitarian Universalists are open to the wisdom of ABC religion – Anything But
Christianity.
Now, I don’t mean to suggest that I have come full circle
and consider myself a Christian –
I haven’t evolved that far, yet! – nor
do I mean to imply that everyone can and should find that the Christian story
is of ultimate value to their lives. I’m simply observing that, at some point,
we became a faith that is comprised largely of people whose major impulse is to
leave behind rather than to move toward. How do we overcome that?
In the eighteen years since I left Christianity behind me, I
have attended Christian churches of various denominations only for weddings,
funerals, and, after I met my husband and began observing Christmas again, Christmas
Eve services. I once attended a
Lutheran service on Palm Sunday because a
nephew was being baptized. In almost every instance, I felt like an outsider. A
welcomed and well-treated outsider, but an outsider nonetheless. Last year on
Candlemas, a time of purification, preparation, initiation, and commitment, I decided that my spiritual life was spread too broadly and that
I needed to choose the wells from which I would drink more deeply. On that day,
I joined both the
Unitarian Universalist Christian Fellowship, having decided to stop fighting my background, and the
Covenant of Unitarian Universalist Pagans, having long ago come to the conclusion that
an observance of the natural cycles of the earth, and of life, held great value
for me. I’ve spent the year between that Candlemas and this embracing the idea
of claiming a narrower path than the one I’ve been taking all these years. I
began moving closer to the rhythm of the Christian liturgical cycle during
Advent, reflecting on quiet hope in the dark of the year. I continued
observance of the rhythm of the pagan wheel of the year, participating once
again in my church’s
Winter Solstice ritual. In eighteen years, I refused
communion at every Christian service I went to where it was offered (except once
a year, at most, in my own UU congregation where I could partake in good
conscience). On this last Christmas Eve, after ten Christmases in a row of letting
my husband and in-laws go up for communion and waiting behind, I led our pew up
to the front of the church and partook with them. Just this weekend, I attended
the
Imbolc ritual of the Baltimore
Reclaiming Community, where I honored the
lengthening of days, asked a blessing on holy candles, gazed into the
ignis purgans,
and made a pledge to “live fully now” in the coming year. Next week brings Ash
Wednesday... There’s something about these rituals that I’ve been missing in
Unitarian Universalism, notwithstanding the sometime belief that there is
too
much ritual, as espoused by the wounded man I’d met so many years before as a new
UU.
Part of what we as Unitarian Universalists value in
religious life is the “encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations”,
and we promote the “direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder,
affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an
openness to the forces that create and uphold life”. I have come to a point in
my life where that means I must dig more deeply and draw from the wells that I
have chosen for myself. The words of what some view as the Unitarian
Universalist’s most sacred hymn plead “roots hold me close, wings set me free”.
For the year ahead, I intend to explore ways in which I might be held close by
my Christian roots and set free by Pagan wings. I will continue to be nourished
from other wells, as they offer me their resources; but I will tend to my own
at this time, and I will pray that this anchoring and expanding might continue
to be held within my chosen faith community.
Spirit of Life, come to me…come to
me.
