Losing my religion because of politics

Britain is a very divided country these days. The EU Referendum has split the nation, and despite assurances by certain politicians that "the country is uniting behind Brexit", in practice that seems not at all the case.

Now we are in the final weeks before our snap general election and - in contrast to previous elections where the main parties really seemed much of a muchness - there are marked differences between the parties, and their plans and manifestos.

Today, as I sat quietly with the Quakers, pondering life, it came to me: It is not my religion that defines me, but other, deeper values, attitudes and beliefs. Other people who share my religious beliefs hold very different political views and have very different attitudes towards social justice, international affairs and the environment.
Give me the humble atheist/agnostic with compassion for the vulnerable in society over the cruel vicar's daughter any day!

My religion is the desire for a caring and compassionate society, which happily and proactively cares for the needy and vulnerable; a society which encourages individuals not to just think about themselves, but to build a secure world for future generations; a society which seeks cooperation and constructive relationships with outsiders and foreigners.
And yes, I find many of those elements in Christian teaching - but probably only by ignoring those elements which contradict my personal values.
I also recognise that people of other faiths and none find those elements in their teachings and worldviews too ... and possibly only by equally ignoring certain elements which contradict their values. How else can the cruel vicar's daughter and other people with totally opposing political views to mine still profess to the same religious faith as me? And how can other followers of other religions also have found very different political positions?

Over the last year or so on Twitter I have come to realise that I am much more tolerant of other religious beliefs than of differing political views. Believe what you like, as long as your actions are in line with what I believe to be right and good.
My point is, I seem to have more in common and feel more closely connected with people who have similar political stances than some people who share my religious beliefs.

I can only conclude that rather than my religion shaping me, my deeper values shape my religion, how I understand it and how I apply it.
Do I still call myself a Christian? - I think I do.
Where do I go from here? - I don't know. Perhaps I need to sit in silence a bit more to fathom it out.

I guess one question which remains is what came first: My religion or my politics? - Any thoughts?

"Why do you believe [in God]?"

"Why do you believe?" - That was the question I was asked early on Sunday morning and I have been mulling it over for the last 8 hours.

Why do I believe in God?
I suppose the simplest answer is because I have believed in God for as long as I can remember and I cannot imagine not believing in God.
Those who know me, know that I am not adversed to questioning and scrutinising religious teaching, scripture and authority. I do it all the time. It's my questions, my doubts and my criticisms which shape my faith.
But never, not in my darkest moments or times of doubt have I not believed in God.God simply is part of my life.

In my mind seeking God is deeply ingrained into the human psyche, whether we are religious or not, or believe in God or not. Perhaps we call that seeking by different names.
I know that I can only speak from my own perception and experience, so forgive me if I do, but I sometimes wonder how atheists can deny that God-shaped hole in their lives. The only way I can imagine it being denied is, well, by denial.
(I am sure many of my atheist friends will disagree. And that's okay. I'll probably hear about it.) :)

To any who at this stage feel inclined to say "So you believe in God. That's fine ... but which of the thousands of G/gods out there??" I would reply that I don't think it matters all that much. Religions are simply human attempts to put the concept of God into human words.
Different religions seem to emphasize different attributes of G/god(s) and at the same time share many similarities.
But outside of all those human concepts G/god(s) does exist or not. Regardless of what we believe about him/her/them (or not).

Why then am I a Christian?
I am sure much is to do with culture and familiarity. If I was born in Afghanistan I'd be more likely a Muslim, if in India a Hindu. It just so happens that I was born in Europe into a Roman Catholic family.

I think my criticism of Christian doctrine may put me on the periphery of Christianity. I quite like the words of Richard Rohr who calls it "being on the edge of the inside". That sounds like a good place to me!
Occasionally people have said to me that I am deist, not a Christian.
I disagree.
Despite being on the edge of the inside, I feel quite firmly part of the Christian faith. Perhaps it's the person of Jesus that keeps me there. Jesus, who said "If you have seen me, you have seen the Father" and "I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you" leaves me believing that his teachings, words and example are worth reading, mulling over and putting into practice.

By that I don't mean blindly following what others tell me. Quite the contrary. It requires me to dig deep and search for myself what it means to "be like Jesus" in this world here and now, wherever I go and whoever I meet.
I know how Jesus' teachings fitted into first century Palestine because the gospel writers left their records.
And I know from Paul's letters how he felt it should be applied as he travelled to other countries and engaged with other cultures.

One of the beauties of the Christin faith is that we believe that we are all flawed and prone to make mistakes. And that gives me the right, or even the responsibility, to scrutinise what others think and say about my faith. And to discern for myself whether they are right or wrong.
The gospel writers and Paul are not here to live according to Jesus' teachings in secular Britain in the 21st century. But I am!

So yes, I do believe that one day I will meet God and that I will account for the things I said (and didn't say) and that things I did (and didn't do), as well as my thoughts and attitudes towards others.
And it won't do any good to say "I did these things because my pastor or vicar or imam or guru or teacher or parent or husband etc told me so".
It will be down to me, and me alone.

Will I always be a Christian? It may be arrogant to claim that I will, although I cannot imagine ever not to be.
But wherever my faith journey takes me, I don't think I can ever be an atheist and not believe that God is here.

There you have it, @hellboy2112. I don't know if it answered your question, but it has passed a rainy Sunday.
Much love. :)

12 years a Christian

Today is an anniversary for me - 12 years since I became a committed and practising Christian. I had been raised in a Roman Catholic family, but hadn't given religion an awful lot of thought since leaving home in my late teens.
I had met a life partner, had children, bought a house, gotten married (in that order) without religion in my life.
I had probably always believed in some greater being or force, but had not given it a name.
I had dabbled with paganism (I loved nature and the seasons, still do), flirted with Hinduism (I enjoyed Yoga, still do) and set foot inside a church once in a blue moon (I liked the peace and serenity, still do).

Then, in my mid-thirties, I had a conversion experience. One evening. Alone. In my kitchen.
It was a very personal and precious moment, so I am not going to blog about that. But I want to reflect on the last 12 years.

I started going to a lively evangelical free church - 'Bible-believing', 'spirit-filled', with energetic worship and long sermons. It took a pretty literal interpretation of scripture. Creationism wasn't openly mentioned, but seemed to be covertly implied; homosexuality was frowned upon (in the 'Hate the sin, but love the sinner' kind of way); women had an inferior role to their husbands.
I was never comfortable with those things, but for a long time felt I could hold that tension and accommodate the differences.

In the end it wasn't the differences in opinion which drew me away, but the fact that having different opinions was discouraged. If one had a question, there was only one answer - that of the pastor/leadership.

I can't function like that. In fact, the worst thing you can do is to tell me what I can/cannot believe.
Atheist friends have taught me that our convictions can only be our own. We hold them, we own them and - if we are honest with ourselves - we review them regularly.

I demand for myself an immense level of freedom. The freedom to mull things over and choose for myself my very personal path.
Some call that cherry picking. I call that being true to myself! :)

I find beauty and meaning in all sorts of religious and non-religious traditions, practices and ideas.
I have found a home (for now at least) in the Church of England in a church where nobody tells me what I can and cannot do, where I am respected and appreciated as I am and where the congregation is very active in social justice and in the local community.

Has becoming a Christian made me a different person? Yes and no.
Many of my values have always been there.
Genetically determined?
Implanted during childhood?
Willed by God?
Who knows.

But I find that my faith crystallises certain values out for me and has become a permanent framework to remind me to strive to be a better person. And yes, I believe to strive to become the person God wants me to be.
Principles like forgiveness, perseverance, grace and patience are things which my faith constantly calls me to do.
To not give in to bitterness, anger and cynicism.
To hold onto hope and trust and love. To believe in a better world and our (god-given) ability to build it.

My faith has changed over the years and it will no doubt continue to change. It seems to mature and become clearer and sharper. The more questions I ask and the more difficult conversations I have, the more I understand what it is I believe and why. The more comfortable I also become in being clear and honest about the many things I don't understand.

Despite it's tricky connotations, I have always found the description 'being born again' quite accurate.
Choosing to become a Christian and essentially follow the teachings of Jesus was a fresh beginning and a commitment for me. And one I have not regretted in 12 years.
If you are one of those people who have honed and sharpened my faith, I thank you for your companionship.

Whether you are a Christian or a follower of any other faith or none, I am glad to know you.

Humanism, being a Christian and the parable of the Eaton Mess

When @Naradee12 first asked me to write a piece for her secularscarlet.wordpress.com blog I thought “I can do that”.
… Then I checked out the blog and found myself thinking “I’m not sure I can do that”. There seemed to be a strong anti-religious sentiment and terminology such as “eradication of religion” simply makes me feel a bit uneasy.

I am a Christian. I grew up in a Roman Catholic family but left the church when I moved away from home at the age of 18. For many years I had little to do with religion – although I was drawn into a church service once in a blue moon, for a while dabbled in Paganism (there is still much I like and respect about it) and at some stage developed an interest in Hinduism.

Then, quite unexpectedly, in my mid-30s I returned to the Christian faith and have been an actively and openly practising Christian ever since. My faith acts as a daily reminder to be more caring, more forgiving and more loving, to be less selfish and self-absorbed and to strive for greater things than personal gain, power and reward.
Of course I am not saying that you have to be a Christian to do these things – but simply that for me the framework of the Christian faith acts as a daily and constant encouragement.

Quite often atheists have said to me: “I respect you, but not your beliefs” to. I think that’s meant to be a compliment, but I find it quite difficult to get my head around that statement.
For me the two are firmly connected. My beliefs shape who I am. Where I see myself in relation to God and other people is who I am. To those atheists I would respond by saying “If you respect me you also respect my beliefs, because my beliefs are what makes me!”

I would also say “judge me by what you know about me, not by what you assume to know about me based on your assumptions”.
I am talking about my personal beliefs. Find out about those, rather than judge me by what the Pope said in 1997 or what some Televangelist preached last week or what you were taught in Bible school when you were 7 or by some obscure Bible verse which really gets your goat.
Or simply judge me by my words and deeds … because they mirror my beliefs.

I believe in God
I also believe in humanity.
I believe in equality and in Human Rights.
And I believe in our ability to live together in peace and harmony … and I am passionately convinced that the only way we can create societies like that is to listen to, learn from and respect each other!
I guess that makes me a humanist.

Jesus summed up all religious teachings into two laws: “Love God and love your neighbour as yourself”.
He modelled this by concerning himself with the most needy, excluded and vulnerable members of the society of his time; those you were considered unclean, sinful or undesirable – menstruating women (yes, I know!), adulteresses, tax collectors, lepers, non-Jews, the mentally ill and the physically disabled, to name a few.
He considered religious rules to be there to benefit people, and criticised them sternly when they were used to burden or control people. Religious teachings are there to benefit people, not the other way round.
Jesus was a humanist too!

My hope is that we all be HUMANISTS before we are theists/deists/atheists and that rather than try to eradicate each other we fight for and work towards the humanist values which will build more loving and caring communities.

The other evening we had Eaton Mess for dessert.
For those of you who don’t know what Eaton Mess is, it consists of broken up meringue, whipped cream and fruit (typically strawberries or raspberries) mixed together. Imagine a mashed up Pavlova!
Now, I’m not too keen on cream and my husband doesn’t really like meringues … but we both agreed that in an Eaton Mess all the ingredients really complement each other.
Take the cream out of the Eaton Mess and you no longer have Eaton Mess. And cream on its own is just, well, cream.

I wonder whether there is a lesson for building society.
Perhaps to create diverse, tolerant and understanding communities, we need to get in together, mix with each other and get messy!

Find me on Twitter under @solsikke66

Come and see!

Today in church we read the following passage from John's gospel: 

The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, ‘Look, here is the Lamb of God!’ The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, ‘What are you looking for?’ They said to him, ‘Rabbi’ (which translated means Teacher), ‘where are you staying?’ He said to them, ‘Come and see.’ They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He first found his brother Simon and said to him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ (which is translated Anointed). He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, ‘You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas’ (which is translated Peter). - John 1:35-42 

I am struck by the words of Jesus: "What are you looking for?" and "Come and see".

What am I looking for in my faith? And have I been looking right?
I often feel that I want to be and do so many things in church and live my faith in that way ... but what about looking much closer to home and seeing the small things in my daily life - my own family, my work? What about living my faith there in everyday situations, rather than looking elsewhere beyond?

Today I took my camera and went for a walk. 
These are the things I found when I looked closer and took in the detail.

"Come and see!"

 

My faith

I have worn a silver chain with a small silver cross for a long time.
Earlier this year I found a little peace symbol in the street and added it to my chain. It isn't real silver and is now looking worn - but that doesn't matter.
Then my daughter gave my a little glass heart pendant and I put it on my chain.
And on holiday in Germany recently I found a little pebble with a handy hole lying along the river Rhein. I hung that on my chain too.

Each symbol represents an important part of my faith.
The cross , of course, symbolises Christianity and my faith in Jesus Christ.
The peace symbol represents peace. The heart love. And the little rock foundation and belonging.

And there you have it.

FAITH = PEACE + LOVE + BELONGING

I wonder what other symbol I will find and add to my little silver chain of faith?

Icy patches

Being a keen runner, running has always been a great analogy for my faith journey. It teaches so much about endurance and perseverance, about pushing on and not giving up.

The apostle Paul spoke about "running a good race" and "obtaining the prize", but I wonder how much he knew about running on snow and ice?

Today much of the snow had melted and frozen over again, making the paths and pavements treacherous in parts.
I decided to drive to the nearby woods in the hope that the paths may be less well trodden there. Much of the paths were compacted snow, which was fairly easy to run on. But then there were parts of deep snow, stretches of ice and the occasional patch of bare tarmac.

It took much care and concentration to run in those conditions. Depending on the condition of the ground I had to constantly adjust my speed and my stride.

It got me thinking that my faith journey is really like that. Just as I was able to adjust to the road conditions, I should be more sensitive and adjust to my home situation when it comes to moving on in my faith journey. Sometimes I can run steadily, sometimes even sprint at great speed. But at other times I have to slow right down, perhaps even stop or find a different route altogether. Sometimes I am at risk of slipping and falling.

So it seems not so much about winning the race, but to persevere in it; to reach the goal, no matter how hard it seems.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. (Hebrews 12:1) 

I don't know about winning the race, but I am hoping to finish it and obtain the prize. One day I want to be able to say "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."
(2 Timothy 4:7)




So far I am slip-sliding along quite nicely ...