It’s not uncommon to be asked, especially in the South when being introduced to new people, “What church do you attend?” When you reply that you do not attend church one of two things typically happen. You are either politely smiled at and then invited to attend the inquirer’s church or, you are asked if you’re a Christian. The first is an easy out, simply smile and say thank you. The latter can get dicey, especially if you do not follow typical Judeo-Christian practices. I always hope they just invite me to church.
For the record, I was raised in the Protestant church; first the Southern Baptist then later the Methodist church. Looking back as an adult, I understand now why I never really felt comfortable in church. But as a child, I thought I was somehow defective because I physically felt the hypocrisy and questioned it. We were taught in Sunday School that Jesus’ message was one of love and caring, but the words coming from the minister seemed angry and hateful, or worse filled with utterly unattainable goals of perfection. In retrospect, while I didn’t realize it at that time, I had found my church. Outside, among nature. When walking in the woods or sitting by a creek listening to birdsong, God seemed possible and I felt at peace.
Now, when asked if I’m a Christian, I simply smile and say, “of a sort.” To explain my earth based spiritual practice usually results in more probing question followed by people trying to affix a label to my spirituality so they can put me in a box and move on, or pass judgement on my choices. I’m not hiding my practice. I’m ever so happy to talk to anyone who is sincerely interested in learning about the old ways, but my spirituality doesn’t require that I proselytize. The forces of nature are God and should be respected. This blue orb we inhabit is the manifestation of God’s love and we have been set here to learn. Now more than ever, we must be good stewards of what we’ve been gifted. The Earth doesn’t need us. We need it.
For the record, I was raised in the Protestant church; first the Southern Baptist then later the Methodist church. Looking back as an adult, I understand now why I never really felt comfortable in church. But as a child, I thought I was somehow defective because I physically felt the hypocrisy and questioned it. We were taught in Sunday School that Jesus’ message was one of love and caring, but the words coming from the minister seemed angry and hateful, or worse filled with utterly unattainable goals of perfection. In retrospect, while I didn’t realize it at that time, I had found my church. Outside, among nature. When walking in the woods or sitting by a creek listening to birdsong, God seemed possible and I felt at peace.
Now, when asked if I’m a Christian, I simply smile and say, “of a sort.” To explain my earth based spiritual practice usually results in more probing question followed by people trying to affix a label to my spirituality so they can put me in a box and move on, or pass judgement on my choices. I’m not hiding my practice. I’m ever so happy to talk to anyone who is sincerely interested in learning about the old ways, but my spirituality doesn’t require that I proselytize. The forces of nature are God and should be respected. This blue orb we inhabit is the manifestation of God’s love and we have been set here to learn. Now more than ever, we must be good stewards of what we’ve been gifted. The Earth doesn’t need us. We need it.
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