I caught a glimpse of a fellow busrider reading the Bible and instead of feeling the usual kinship, I felt distant and even suspect of him: Is he an ill-mannered fundamentalist? Is he devout? Does he swear or drink? Does he fancy Palin? Does he hate the ACLU? Is he suspicious of mainstream media? Is he trying to get attention?
Such a change in perspective is no small thing for me. It is a thunderclap that hit years ago and has finally made it to this definitive point of dissociating from those whom I previously felt closest to. Odd. The roots are far-reaching: travel, mission work, getting burned by the Bush Administration, gracious and dear friends who challenged me on the heart of theological or political issues. One friend in particular is a spiritual-but-not-religious-agnostickish-former-Buddhist-labels-are-clearly-not-befitting man who was interested in my story/beliefs and willing to share his own story/beliefs. As it went, my greatest fear was that he would throttle my pedestrian takes on economic policy, abortion, certainty, or my reading of the Creation account and I’d be left looking like a fool. Really, Vegan Yale graduates such as he are near the top of my threatening species list. Well, such a moment never came, and to the best of my knowledge it was not his experience of me either. We had deep and rich discussions, affirming and crushing stereotypes willy-nilly; discussing matters of meditation, intelligent faith, drugs, the trendy Christ, the abhorrent TBN, Daily Kos, to name a few. I love it. We recently formalized our discussions and meet monthly with people of other faiths. Tables are overturned, conches are passed around.
Ever so incrementally, I see the world as others see it. I read the paper and news differently, I defend different ideologies, I hold my dogma loosely, and admit to being wrong with minimal loss of ego. It feels a bit like insecurity at times and I am often bogged down in a pathetic pluralism that doubts meaning or the relevance of experience (see existentialist drift). There is no direction to head when you don’t believe in the certainty of where you are. When you’ve swung so hard from one side to the other you wonder about the validity of all your most devout beliefs. This wonder feels like a crumbling rock cliff sometimes. You imagine you are wrong about the whole lot of things. Dangerous space to dwell as a person of faith and yet, essential to faith.
The thing with pagans, heathens, socialists, commies, nudists, and other such fantastic beings is, they aren’t nearly as horrible as I’ve dreamed them up to be.
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