My Religion

I have been meaning to write another entry for quite some time. My work schedule has been even more crazy that usual. Tonight finds me home alone. I've wrapped presents while watching "Elf", indulged in wine and pizza, and now have settled down with my thoughts. Since it's The End of the World as We Know it, it just so happens I have a childhood story for you.

Growing up I was surrounded by religion. My Grandmother was a devout Christian. I have memories upon memories of her singing hymns, reading the bible, and watching her write in her bible. I loved my Grandmother deeply. She was and is my musical inspiration. It is no surprise that I wanted to go to church with her. I remember her taking me to bible school as a small child, no more than four. We would sing and make crafts. I loved church. Grandma even gave me a pocket-sized Old Testament of my very own.

I learned to read at an early age and Grandma liked to read stories from the bible to me. My favorite was about Lazarus, because he was poor just like me. I can remember praying to God and thinking about Lazarus. And maybe if I prayed hard enough and if I was good enough he would help my mom and I too.

My Grandmother was a Baptist. I was "saved" at four years old. That's right. A four-year old little red haired girl walked up the aisle, kneeled at the alter, and asked Jesus into her heart. Do you know why? Because I was so scared that Jesus hated me and would send me to hell if I didn't.

Fast-forward a few years...

We had a Baptist church right around the corner from our trailer. My best-friend was a member of the church. I stopped going to church with Grandma and started going to church with my bestie. We were in a group called G.A.s. I know we went to church at least twice a week.

If my Grandma was a devout Christian, my friend and her family were on the path to sainthood. It was intense. I can remember being told that I was a horrible sinner and that if I didn't ask Jesus into my heart every Sunday I would go to hell.

Every Sunday a red-haired girl would walk up the aisle, kneel at the alter, and ask Jesus into her heart. Every. Sunday.

I thought I only had to do it once. That's what Grandma said but she was old, so I didn't question the ritual.

Fast Forward...

In my lifetime I have been a Baptist, a Presbyterian, a Methodist, Agnostic, and now a Buddhist. 

In my life organized religion has only made me hate myself and fear that every decision, every action I performed was a sin...and even if I prayed for forgiveness, I would ultimately go to hell.

December 21st is suppose to be the end of the world. Do you know even though I have grown and logically told myself that this is a bunch of hoopla I'm still scared? I still see the pastor, the congregation, and my friends' eyes on me...telling me to walk to the alter to ask forgiveness of my sins. I'm afraid that even though I know in my heart of hearts I am a good person, it just won't be enough.

I know that I am good person and the feeling of being judged by "God" just isn't right. Everyone makes mistakes. Are mine really so horrible that I should die or have a horrible afterlife due to them?

This is what attracted to me to my current practice of Buddhism. When I chant I chant for my well-being and the well-being of others. There are no guilt feelings...no pain...no fear. I practice alone. There is no one telling me I am a horrible sinner. I just am. I am me. I have wants, desires, needs, and a will for the best of life. Not only that but I wish it for those around me.

If being myself and doing the good in my heart is not good enough for God, who is this God anyway? It's good enough for me. I'm so angry at times with all the guilt and fear that was instilled in myself by organized religion. It hurts. At times I just can't let it go.

I really believe the world would be a better place if people just kept religion to themselves. I don't care what you practice. I care if you are good, and kind, and fair.

Isn't that what is most important? Love? Acceptance?

And now do yourself a favor and listen to Imagine by John Lennon.