church

FAQ on my Thirty Day Fast

I’d like to address a few of the questions I’ve received on my recent Thirty Day fast:

So…what did you eat? Nothing. I didn’t chew for 30 days, nor did I drink alcohol. I also tried to limit medications. I did take in copious amounts of vitamins, lots of juice (organic if possible), and sugar-free protein on workout days. (Yes, I still did boot camp.)

 Isn’t that UNHEALTHY? Well, not for me. Obviously I’m here, I’m fine and, it could be argued, in better health than I have ever been.  But I would like to be VERY CLEAR that an extreme fast could ABSOLUTELY be unhealthy for a given person depending on factors such as overall health, weight, lifestyle, mental state, etc. PLEASE DO NOT CONSIDER an extreme fast without A.) A very specific calling to undertake it and B.) Consulting your doctor.

 Why did you choose to fast for thirty days? First, I didn’t choose to fast for 30 days. God asked me to. (There will be much more on this when I cover the fast in depth between April 15th and May 15th). A 30-day fast is something I never would have thought of, nor did I think I could do it. I was called to fast in December, and it took me nearly three months of wrestling with the concept and telling God there was NO WAY I could possibly ever do that before I surrendered and… just did it. Once I got towards the end, I wanted to do 40 days, but that was made impossible by a pre-planned family vacation.

 How much weight did you lose?  It is inconsequential….that was NOT the point. This was purely spiritual venture. I like to say some of the excess weight enabled me to complete the fast, but it was in no way a diet attempt. There isn’t enough willpower in my world.

 Why did you stop blogging during the fast? Part of the reason fasting, especially long-term fasting, is spiritually effective is because it clears out your life of everything that isn’t entirely necessary. Due to the vast physical, mental, emotional and spiritual strain, fasting forced me to re-evaluate every activity in my life by these two questions: 1.) Is [activity] actively bringing me closer to God and/or 2.) Is [activity] absolutely necessary? In addition to ceasing blogging, I limited my activities to work, prayer, meditation, necessary household duties,  spending time with my husband, and LOTS of sleeping.

 Why didn’t you tell anyone? Fasting is a personal matter between you and your God. It is extremely difficult, and there is no place for the critical negativity of others. You’re already doubting yourself…you don’t need anyone else to doubt you. Also, to be brutally honest, I often thought I was going to fail. (Daily. Sometimes minute-ly.) I didn’t want to announce, “Hey, I am doing this 30-day fast!” only to say, “Hey, I quit on day 10.”

 I hope that clears a few things up! Also, as mentioned, I will be writing in detail about the fast and what I learned starting on April 15th. But if you are interested in the basics of how I got through it…check out this post.

 

 

Web’s first 3D Interactive Church…41,000 attend in one day!

Admittedly, this circa 2004 story is old news.

 But, being it is almost old enough to be vintage-cool, I thought a few of you might enjoy a visit to the world’s first 3D Interactive Church….a quiet place to sit  (via avatar), pray (via text), listen (to electronic hymn), and reflect (on your own). After my own visit, I think more churches should have online sanctuaries. Not even the most traumatized among us would be reduced to tears by a cartoon altar. I, for one, love this. It should totally be listed in the National Historic (Virtual) Record.

United Kingdom–25 May 2004–http://churchoffools.com/news-stories/03_41000.html

Earlier this week, Church of Fools welcomed 41,000 visitors in one 24-hour period. We document the extraordinary first 14 days of Church of Fools.

Since last week’s launch at the UK’s National Christian Resources Exhibition, Church of Fools has been welcoming, on average, 8,000 visitors per day. But on Wednesday, over 41,000 visitors crammed into the church in one 24-hour period, exceeding all expectations for congregational size.

The reason was a phenomenal second wave of publicity about the church which went all round the world. With headlines such as “Internet devils smite virtual church” (The Times, London) and “Cyber church reacts to ‘Satan’ visit” (CNN), the world’s media reported on the hacking and mischief-making that went on in the church earlier in the week.

“Church of Fools said Wednesday it had shut to outsiders its pulpit, lectern and space round the altar to stop less than religious types giving messages definitely not from the Almighty,” reported CNN. The church also recruited a team of 12 wardens, armed with smite buttons which can be used to eject people who log in to the church simply to cause trouble.

The church is now offering services of morning and night prayer (in UK time) each day, and response from visitors to the cyber sanctuary has been mostly positive.

“I have a friend who has claimed not to believe in God for many years,” wrote Sandy from North Carolina. “He had a crisis this week and wanted a place to try a prayer. No way would he ever go to a real church. But he went to yours, said his first prayer in many years and told me he felt much better afterwards.”

Jenny from Reading, UK, wrote: “I have only managed to get in once as a ‘solid’ but ended up having an interesting conversation with a Jew. I don’t really meet Jewish people in real life, so it was a good experience, especially as our religions have so much history in common.”

The strangest, and maybe the most heartwarming, offer of support during the church’s problems with disruptive visitors came from a self-confessed Satanist. Referring to people who were entering the church to shout “Praise be to Satan!” he wrote…

“I have been Satanist all my life and would never have pulled any such thing. So, for all the immature twits within the Satanic community, you have my sympathies as I truly hope to see you fix the problem soon. Best of luck, sincerely, Satanist with a heart.

Post-Traumatic Church Syndrome

Post-Traumatic Church Syndrome (PTCS) is the term I coined to describe the myriad of symptoms: mental, emotional and even physical, and aftershocks following a departure from a stringent religious culture. PTCS presents as follows: 1) Sufferer is exposed to a trigger, such as a televised minister, extreme talk show host, religious song or discussion 2) Sufferer experiences one or more of the following: disgust, mental anguish, flashbacks, anger, rage, sadness, depression, crying, headache, nausea, vomiting, and, in rare cases, hives. If the sufferer is somehow immersed in a religious situation, whether by accident or coercion (such as attending a church service or being blind sighted by a fundamentalist at a dinner party) all symptoms may occur simultaneously, causing the victim to run (possibly screaming) out of the sanctuary/cocktail party/dinner table and seek refuge in the nearest bathroom/car/basement/dark hole. The sufferer may or may not later experience a spiritual hangover for several hours or days, wherein the symptoms continue unabated.

Though the DSM-IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders: the primary text used by doctors to diagnose psychological conditions) has yet to pick up on my idea, I am hopeful for the next edition. [And, while they're at it? I'd really appreciate a diagnosis for the neuroses I deal with when faced with large numbers of numbers, such as spreadsheets. Preferably one that would give me a doctor's note to avoid creating and/or interpreting said digits. Perhaps something along g the lines of Severe Numberlexia and Excelphobia? Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the psychiatric world, for your serious consideration!]

If you think I am being facetious, I assure you, IAM NOT. [Well, except about the numbers.] An occupational hazard of conducting a project like Thirty by Thirty is being verbally vomited on by fellow PTCS victims who are so glad to find someone who understands! (It is, quite frankly, exhausting. Especially since I am still dealing/healing from my own case. Still, I welcome my fellow sufferers because solidarity and support are important components of recovery.) My personal experience is that there are PLENTY of folks suffering from PTCS out there (of people I talk to, about 20%), placed along the spectrum from mild cases: my parents dragged me to church and I hated every minute of it!, to stubborn cases such as my own which require extreme measures such as Spiritual Shock Therapy (enter: Thirty by Thirty) for there to be any chance of recovering faith. 

Many people assume the origin of PTCS is spiritual abuse: that is, being wounded by fellow believers/religious folks all in the name of God, and the spirit of brotherly love! This is not the case. Or, perhaps I should revise my statement: spiritual abuse is not the exclusive cause of PTCS. Typically, limiting theological beliefs and their attachment to the identity of the individual play a large role in the onset of symptoms. Not that spiritual abuse should be dismissed; it is a very serious issue running rampant in the church today, usually employed to cause members to conform or be punished. However, the core belief system, and the breaking away from it, comprise a large percentage of severe cases.

In my own life, the below beliefs (and my decision to cast them off) has caused the majority of my PTCS, perhaps as much as 70%. The balance was inflicted by fellow believers, but those are stories for another day. So, here goes:

 1.) Everyone (except us!) is going to Hell. And if you don’t share the gospel with them, their blood is on your hands. Do you want to get to heaven only to see all those you could have saved from eternal damnation? Really? Everyone from the beginning to the end of time, regardless of race, family origin or life circumstances is damned to hell for all eternity? Even a democratic people who believe in their laws have judges and juries to make sure justice is carried out. And sometimes “justice” means setting a person free who did commit a crime, because of extenuating circumstances. Do we really think an all-powerful, all-loving God would not have some sort of sliding scale? That we have the exclusive corner on truth?

2.) Your identity is found in God and your family. These are the things you can always rely on! Everything else is temporal and will fade! So what happens when your family falls apart, or someone passes away, or you fail to believe in the God you were raised with? A shattered person. Very dangerous.

3.) It is better to be hot or cold in your faith, lest God SPIT YOU OUT OF HIS MOUTH!!! (Referencing Rev. 3:16) This is further extrapolated to mean God will quite literally vomit you up if you fail to be (their version of) a “hot” believer. [The common interpretation of this passage is that ‘hot’ means enthusiastic, wholehearted or zealous. ‘Lukewarm’ means half-hearted, uncommitted, wavering, indifferent. Someone who is ‘cold’ would then be antagonistic and hostile, rejecting the Gospel. Referencehttp://makestraightpaths.com/hot_cold_lukewarm.htm] Talk about social control!

4. Believe it all, or believe it none. This is intrinsically related to #3, but (for me) BY FAR the MOST DAMAGING. It was this ingrained belief in fact, that forced me to walk away from my faith completely and totally because I didn’t think I was allowed to consider options outside the (very clear) boundaries of what I should and should not believe. Special note on #4: Once I got past this belief, with the aid of Thirty by Thirty, my faith found a place to root and started to bloom.

So there it is folks: an explanation of PTCS and the origin of my Post-Traumatic Church Syndrome. Or, part of it at least. (And my confession that I hate numbers, spreadsheets, and most especially spreadsheets with lots of numbers. DSM-IV–here I come!)

 

Diwali (The Hindu New Year) Part I: Preparation

December 31, 2011:Rotating religious New Year’s is great: it is like Keeping Resolutions for Dummies 101…you can keep starting over until you get it right! When the ball drops tonight, I will celebrate my third New Year’s 2012. Having already attended Yom Kippur and Diwali services, I will be fully prepared to keep my New Year’s resolutions (because I’ve already started and failed twice)!
      Circa October 26, 2011:  Hindu Diwali occurs today: it is a celebration of the start of the Hindu New Year and the year’s most important holiday. A festival of lights and the of triumph of good over evil, Diwali is a time for both reflection and parties. Much like Christmas Eve, even non-practicing Hindus will attend temple services this evening. Those who do not will create altars and perform the holiday’s rituals at home. Diwali honors the goddess of wealth, Lakshmi, and many rituals revolve around requesting financial blessing for the New Year. 
      Celebrating Diwali requires the performance of specific rituals which require pre-planning to properly execute. Unfortunately, I do not realize this until the morning of Diwali, so I find myself scrambling for A.) Proper attire and B.) Required ritual materials. Fortunately, I am a champion at leaving things until the last minute (My college major? Procrastination), and therefore well-versed at working under pressure.
      The Bharatiya Hindu Temple Diwali services commence at 6pm local temple time, so I start my preparations around 9am thinking I would have plenty of time. I am wrong: even with nine hours, I struggle for time. Here is the list of rituals, along with my results:
1.Clean my home–Check. (Sort of). Though this was the only thing on the list that really needed to be done, I manage to only clean the living room and kitchen.
2. Wear new clothes–Ummm, yes please! Hindu clothes are like Prom and Indian New Year at once! I call the temple to inquire about proper attire, and reach an unfriendly man who either doesn’t know where I could buy a sari and/or doesn’t want me to know. His statement, “Please wear traditional dress if possible,” starts a quest that lasts almost all day. I start calling costume shops, none of whom have anything but “Sexy (Halloween) Saris” which I do not believe appropriate for the occasion.Since the holiday specifically calls for the shopping for and wearing of new clothes to the temple, why would the only Indian store in town be open today? AHHHH! After three hours, I reach the store which (yay!) is open today in honor of Diwali. I inquire about approximate prices and (yikes!) realize my household budget doesn’t exactly allow for a $150 Sari. But, as far as spiritual quests go, it’s cheaper than a trip to India.(This day is about attracting wealth, but I just seem to be repelling money right out of my bank account.)

3.Place mustard oil lights around my home to attract Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth. –I turn on every light in the house (including closests and bathrooms), prompting me to wonder whether I’m attracting wealth or an electricity bill. I don’t have mustard oil and (believe it or not!), it is not readily available at the grocery. I improvise by dabbing French’s Yellow mustard on spice-scented candles.
4.Set off fireworks. Problems: A). There is not a dearth of fireworks in Ohio in October. (Sexy Saris? Yes. Sparklers? No.) B). Setting off fireworks downtown is illegal C). My leftover 4th of July sparklers fail to spark. Instead, I watch authentic Diwali fireworks via YouTube. Excellent display, not unlike our patriotic holidays—if the background to our holidays included a soundtrack of hollering Indians.
5. Trace Rangoli (lotus patterns) on the floor with chalk and fill with powder. I discover that sidewalk chalk does not work  on wood floors, so I use paper draw my poor excuse of a lotus flower. The type of powder is not specified, so I use chili powder. (Maybe some gods like it hot?) Oxley the puppy has to be outside for this part, lest he eat and puke up the chili powder, thereby offending Laksmi and dooming us to a bad financial year.

6.Open doors and windows to let Lakshmi in–Check. Thankfully it was a warmer-than-average fall day. (Oxley continues to be outside, lest he escape).
7.Decorate shrine to Lackshimi to attract propserity-–Check it out!

Altar for Lakshmi

Items included are:
1. Flowers and fruit (offerings to Lakshmi) 2. Candles (to guide her to me?) 3. Money and representations of prosperity(all I had was change, blank checks,losing lottery tickets and credit cards. I added my student ID for good measure…gotta pay off those loans someday.Also, champagne corks. What says wealth & success like a little bubbly?) 4. Representations of career success--thus bringing money through work (my letters sign, sue goodwin’s card, a few favorite inspirational books, my book writing journal) 5. Oxley’s current favorite toy. Why? I would consider myself quite a bit richer if he stopped pooping in the house. And, of course, Mustard. Prompting my husband to ask, “Why is there mustard on the wine bar?” Ummm, not quite sure…but I am nothing if not thorough!
8.Finalize all account books to be ready for the start of the new financial year–Mmmm, avoided doing my expense report because I hate numbers. I paid bills instead!
9.Exchange gifts of nuts and sweets. We do not have nuts, so I exchange gifts of granola bars with my husband. Later I forced force him to eat an Indian dish. Usually he is a human garbage disposal, so I am surprised when he makes a face. “Tastes like…chai tea yogurt rice?”
      To my amazement, I have all the same feelings of  Christmas joy and excitement while accomplishing the Diwali preparations. One significant difference: I have never been afraid to approach the throne of baby Jesus, but goddess Lakshmi is a bit terrifying. I mean, a woman with the power to give or take away my wealth who has more breasts than hands? That is one scary deity. Further, I can’t shake the ingrained Christian notion that in building Lakshmi an altar, I might be worshipping a demon. (Even though I don’t believe this, I cross myself a few times.)
      After hours of preparation, I leave for the temple. I am very excited and nervous. This is the first time since starting Thirty by Thirty that I’ll be an obvious pretender. I locate Maaya, the one sari store in a 100 mile radius. How fortunate that is is only a few miles from the temple! I walk into a lovely little shop filled to the brim with gorgeous Indian wear: clothing, jewelry, shoes, purses…I could get lost in here. There are two Indian ladies working, and one is lighting candles. Oh, I mentally congratulate myself, I know why she is doing that! “Happy Diwali!” I say, butchering the word. With the authentic ethnic music and both women barefoot and wearing traditional Hindu dress, I feel like I have stepped straight through to India, minus the 24-hour flight and jet-lag.
      I’m exuberant about the novelty of celebrating this holiday and the chance to try on these gorgeously colored, beaded saris. I enter the dressing room, er, bathroom (apparently Indian women don’t have to try things on—they already know their size) with the selections. I am both happy and dismayed that none of them fit. Clearly I look smaller than I am! (Or,gulp, the ladies never see someone my size in the store?) After I few tries, I slip into a red and blue traditional celebration sari and have the same feeling as when I found my senior prom dress…perfect! I love this dress. I never want to take it off. Sure, it would be difficult to go to work and my stomach would freeze in the winter, but this feeling of gauzy, flowing red fabric and blue satin, with ten pounds of beading? I want to hang onto this. Despite my lower-than-average hair and makeup, I twirl in front of the mirror, feeling exotic and sexy and…temple ready?Coming from a background with strict church and school dress codes, the idea of baring my midriff —the one that is not as toned as I would prefer— in a temple is both thrilling and nerve-racking.
      With a mouth full of pins, one women dresses me, murmuring instructions about the elaborate pinning of the (sash?). There are 35 pins…make sure you get them all out before undressing tonight so you don’t bleed! I stand perfectly still while she fusses over me, getting the sari just so and draping me in jewelry and bracelets.
      I half-heartedly protest because of the cost (already ringing in at $170+), but it was all so… lovely. I couldn’t resist. The shopkeeper says she will give me a discount. You are going to temple all alone, without anyone? We dress you to find a nice Indian husband! I cough that I’m already married. Too bad,this sari could get you nice, young doctor!
      Assuring her I am happily married, I pay and walk carefully to the car, sitting gingerly to avoid the 35 pins. Wait, she rushes after me. You need this! She hands me Indian desserts then presses a red jewel (a bindi) on my forehead. So the men know you are married! I glance in the rear-view mirror and, satisfied with my preparations and dress, drive off to the temple.
Tomorrow I will post about the Diwali temple celebration….Have a safe and Happy New Year’s Eve!
Find Thirty by Thirty on Facebook at www.facebook.com/thirtybythirty

My Very Bare-y Christmas

Sharenator.com

Sister #1: I got a remote start in my car for Christmas!

Sister #2: I got an IPAD!

Me: I got a pair of socks from the emergency room…

Brother-in-law: At least your present was the most expensive.

Henceforth this holiday shall be known as: The Christmas Rebecca Landed in the ER. (For a case of hives that migrated to her throat, which started swelling shut.)

It shall also be known as: The Year a Doctor Scares Trent. (When, upon our arrival at the urgent care clinic, we were immediately sent away by the attending physician to the “Real ER, where they can do something for your wife.”)

And this is why I do not have a post about attending a Christmas service.

On the bright side, I did pray fervently between the urgent care and the “Real ER”.

Lesson Learned: Only go to the urgent care clinic with urgency…not an emergency.

Bonus Lesson: If, in the excitement of a swelling throat, you fail to wear socks, the ER nurse will gladly provide you with a  pair for the nominal astronomical price of your stay. But only AFTER you have bared your bottom* to your mother-in-law, your mother-in-law’s neighbor’s son [he is a doctor! I do not expose myself to visiting neighbor's sons for fun!], three urgent care nurses, one incompetent urgent care doctor, three ER nurses,two ER physician’s assistants,and a partridge in a pear tree.

(*My bottom would like to note that it prefers to remain covered. However,  if it is called to duty, in such cases as it being eclipsed by welted, migrating hives and thus becoming a threat to the life of its owner, my bottom is very patriotic and willing to be bared, even if said baring causes much shame!)

Apology:

I realize this post has nothing to do with going to places of worship, except that I skipped going to church on the biggest church day of the year. So….sorry about that.

In my defense, I am certain more people find God in the Emergency Room in one day than find Him in some mega-churches on Christmas. 

FAQ:

1. Do you know what caused the hives? No.

2. Have you eaten anything new or changed anything recently (add long list of things you think I may not have considered as a cause but, believe me, if you think your throat is swelling shut you ponder possibilities. Very.Very.Thoroughly.)  No.

3. Can the doctor tell you what caused them? No.

4. Are you OK now? I am drugged up on Benedryl, steroids and various antihistamines. Everything is OK.

Shout-Out!

A big shout-out to Jen Lancaster,  NYT best-selling author of multiple books (including my fav Bitter is the New Black),whose hilarious, sharp-witted voice I heard in my head while considering the absurdity of my Christmas Situation in the ER. Though I have not the faintest idea of Ms. Lancaster’s religious views outside of her former attendance at the Magnificent Mile Mecca,I believe we share an affinity for mild, mind-altering meds (Her: Ambien. Me: Benadryl). Thanks for your great sense of humor…it ( and the drugs) helped get me through My Very Bare-y Christmas.

cheezburger.com

Please like Thirty by Thirty on Facebook if you enjoyed this post! www.facebook.com/thirtybythirty

And don’t forget to visit Jen Lancaster on FB if you need a laugh! www.facebook.com/AuthorJenLancaster

 

Tags

Faith, Faith blog, theology,Reba Riley,thirty by thirty, 30 by 30, thirty x thirty, 30×30, faith, faith blog, God, blog faith, on faith blog, faith blogs, faith & theology, faith theology, unreasonable faith,on faith washington post,washington post on faith,church, christian,Jesus,hope, Bible,what is faith,faith in God, faith book,world religion,religions world,the major religions, lost faith, lose faith,losing faith in faith,confidence in God, losing my faith,faith God, find faith,find your faith, jen lancaster,big lights,goodkind,jennifer lancaster,lancaster book, recovering christian, recovering catholic

 

 

 

Jingle Bells?

“Aunt Rebecca, do you believe in Santa Claus?”
(Carefully) “Do you believe in Santa?”
(Vigorous head-nodding and jumping around) “Yes!!!”
(More carefully) “How do you know he’s real?”
(Puzzled) “Don’t you know if you believe in Santa you can hear jingle bells when you close your eyes?” (Squishes eyes tightly) “I’m hearing them…right…now! Do you hear them?”
I shut my eyes, but all I hear is my seven year-old niece’s  excitement.

How I wish I could hear the jingle bells: my niece’s irrefutable proof that Santa lives, that elves are working happily away in the North Pole, that presents will appear under the tree, that the world is full of joy and peace, that all is safe and right and magical.

Her bells hold all the magic of Christmas wrapped into a sound that fights the inevitable hows and whys. How can Santa reach all the children of the earth in one night? Why do people without chimneys still get presents? How do reindeer fly? Why is there a Santa at every store?

But all these questions? They mean nothing to her now. Because she can hear the jingle bells.

When my niece talks about Santa, she glows; her eyes light up with the wonder and magic of Christmas, and reflected in her is all the world’s joy. I encountered the same shiny look on the faces of the Mormon missionaries, and I wanted to throttle them—actually lean over the coffee table and strangle them with their Army of God-issued ties.

Because I felt very, VERY jealous…as evergreen with envy as a Christmas tree.Because they shut their eyes and hear jingle bells, but when I close mine questions are all I hear. I know how it feels to be so, SO certain of everything. To believe. To hear the jingle bells.

It is so happy and easy to have all the answers handed to you, to wrap yourself tightly in the peace that surpasses understanding. To share the belief, the wonder, the magic, with people who love you because you can hear the same jingle bells as they.

But what happens for my niece when someday her best friend whispers more questions in her ear, planting the seeds of doubt? When a boy makes fun of her on the playground, taunting “You still believe in Santa?Don’t you know he isn’t real?”

What happens when the Mormon missionaries open a closet before Christmas Eve, and all their presents tumble out?

When they all close their eyes…and can’t hear the jingle bells?

I’ll tell you what happens: you lose your faith. In Santa, in religion, maybe even in God. And you push it all out of your mind, ignoring the ache that lives where there once was magic. You denounce everything that you once put your belief in, grow up, and don’t acknowledge the hurt, the betrayal, because it simply hurts too much.

And then.

Nine years later.

You wake up and realize you want to believe in something real. You want to hear jingle bells without closing your eyes.

And seven months later, on Christmas Day, you realize you DO hear them ringing… loud and clear.

With your eyes wide open.

Because you are the one shaking them.

Tags

Faith, Faith blog, theology,Reba Riley,thirty by thirty, 30 by 30, thirty x thirty, 30x30, faith, faith blog, God, blog faith, on faith blog, faith blogs, faith & theology, faith theology, unreasonable faith,on faith washington post,washington post on faith,church, christian,Jesus,hope, Bible,what is faith,faith in God, faith book,world religion,religions world,the major religions, lost faith, lose faith,losing faith in faith,confidence in God, losing my faith,faith God, find faith,find your faith

The First Christian Spiritualists: Part Deux

Post-Christian Spiritualist Temple Experience, no one was more surprised than me to discover the existence of dark energy outside the confines of Paranormal Activity I, II and III.

I boast a long and rich history with Satan, wherein certain parents and pastors of mine systematically rebuked him in the name of Jesus, regularly banishing his malevolent minions from our house, my bedroom, and the church. I even witnessed the exorcism of a church camp sound system that was behaving badly. Clearly this was no ordinary power surge! The Evil One himself infested the equipment to keep 4th graders from hearing the message of salvation for the twenty-seventh time in six days! This process, known in Christian circles as Spiritual Warfare, was simultaneously comforting and frightening.  I understood said warfare to mean  that Satan could enter our house and possibly hide out under my bed (scary!), but my Dad could easily make him depart by praying (calming!) until he came back again (alarming!).

If Satan does indeed sabotage inanimate objects, I feel quite certain this lamp is in grave danger.

Upon considering the Devil as an adult, I threw out the idea of a lurking,evil entity preoccupied with ruining church camp sermons. I also tossed the notion of intelligent evil altogether and, carefully refraining from exorcisms of inanimate objects, proceeded happily along in my life without the heavy burden and time-commitment of telling Beelzebub to Depart from me! In the name of Jesus!

Around the same time, I rejected praying out loud. There are more reasons for this than the exorcism factor, but it suffices to say here that 99% of the (few) prayers I uttered after my 21st year rose from my mind to the Almighty’s ear. I conscientiously objected to spoken prayer on the grounds that an all-knowing God needed not hear my voice. And, it was just too traumatic to pray out loud. Much to close to my past for comfort.

Anyhoo. An alert reader needs this background information to understand just how bizarre the events following my time with the Christian Spiritualists really were. Please keep said background in mind when I say this: something sinister followed me home from the witchcraft/Christian-craft conference.

You know that time you randomly stepped in a pile of dog poo? And didn’t realize it until you walked in the house, took off your shoes and sniffed? That’s how it was when I arrived home after five hours with the Christian Spiritualists.I discovered (too late!) some metaphysical ju-ju clinging to my spiritual shoe-shoe.
In the immortal words of bumper sticker-ists everywhere, “Sh** Happens”. And apparently it happens to me…in the First Christian Spiritualist’s temple sanctuary…with a crystal. Or maybe it was a tarot card–or a divination rod–or a hymnal?

It started simply enough— with a headache—which became a bad headache— that turned into  The.Worst.Headache.Ever. EVER! My head hurt so badly I thought it was going to split open right there is the bed, which I was in for a full fourteen hours. Note: migraines have never, ever plagued me, but plagued I was, and would continue to be, for the next three days.

I awoke that night and the following two nights promptly at three a.m., with a disturbing weight on my chest and terrible anxiety. Once awake and thoroughly freaked out, I felt some kind of dark presence in our bedroom. Note:I have never felt unsafe in my own bed, unless you count the time Oxley knocked over the laundry basket and I thought someone was breaking in.

I prayed silently;it went away. I stopped praying; it came back. Feeling crazy, I woke up Trent, who rolled me into a bear-hug and told me to calm down. But calm down I could not…not while this creepy energy was hanging out with me.

After two days of this weirdness, my spiritual circuitry was so hot you could fry a metaphysical egg on my chakras. I was on high-level alert, like a red rating of spiritual terrorism. I considered calling a priest, even though I am not Catholic. Instead, what did I do? I called my father. In the middle of the night. To pray for me. OUT LOUD. It helped, until the next day when the weirdness forced me to do the unthinkable.

I personally got down on my knees and prayed. OUT LOUD. Rebuking whatever evil was lurking around me and commanding it to Depart from me! In the name of Jesus!

And…it left.

I refuse to name the weirdness Satan, and I suspect that invoking the power of Christ against it was a conditioned knee-jerk reaction based on my childhood and watching too many scary movies. My best guess is that in willingly (and foolishly) joining my energy with about twenty other psychics of dubious origin, I managed to carry home some transference of negative energy. Spiritual or natural I do not know, and I realize this whole thing is very New Age-y and stinks of sensationalism. But still.

If I ever consult a psychic, or medium, or Christian Spiritualist again, I plan to take a crucifix, garlic, and a rosary with me. And possibly bathe in Holy Water before and after.

I am thankful, however, that the spiritual ju-ju forced me to break through my praying wall. I can now pray out loud with anyone, anywhere, for any reason. Except maybe to banish Satan from church camp sound systems.

 

Tags

Faith, Faith blog, theology,Reba Riley,thirty by thirty, 30 by 30, thirty x thirty, 30×30, faith, faith blog, God, blog faith, on faith blog, faith blogs, faith & theology, faith theology, unreasonable faith,on faith washington post,washington post on faith,church, christian,Jesus,hope, Bible,what is faith,faith in God, faith book,world religion,religions world,the major religions, lost faith, lose faith,losing faith in faith,confidence in God, losing my faith,faith God, find faith,find your faith, christian spiritualism, christian spiritualists

Witchcraft or Christian-craft? The First Christian Spiritualist Temple

Mom, I'm scared! How does psychic Pastor Carol know about me?

Circa August 2011. Temperature: 90+ degrees.
I just allowed a thug look-a-like (white tee, cocked-hat, multiple chain necklaces,loose jeans belted at mid-thigh) to lead me into a small room, take off my shoes, and touch my bare feet while I try (in vain) to relax on a medical-grade table covered in a Mexican blanket. What the heck am I doing? I mentally panic as the thug closes his eyes, places his hands an inch above my now-bare feet and proceeds to channel healing energy into my foot chakra. I’d cross the street to avoid this guy in broad daylight.** Under what circumstances would I allow this to happen?

The circumstance is the spiritual forum at the First Christian Spiritualist Temple, and I am sweating bullets. Is it because I actually feel heat radiating from Mr. Fro-Bro’s hands or because this historic church building lacks air conditioning?

I’m about to grab my sandals and bolt until I notice an angelic, white-haired oldster rise from a seat in the corner. She hobbles over, lifts her hands over my forehead, and begins channeling energy into my crown chakra. I relax. Nothing truly bad is going to happen to me in the presence of Psychic Grandma.

I’m in a church building, with a totally normal sanctuary and yet things are just….off.

Temple Sanctuary. It looks so...normal.

Aside from the Reiki healing treatment I’m receiving in this little room off the sanctuary, psychic phenomena is taking place all around me. Twenty-five card tables line the church’s perimeter, each staffed with a medium, psychic or healer consulting with a supplicant wishing to know their future. There are crystals, tarot cards, hymnals and Bibles. There is a even a Bible with tarot cards on top of it. I think I have just entered an alternate spiritual country where divination and Jesus combine to create a haven for all things spiritually strange: one fortune-telling nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and communing with the dead for all.
Despite the familiar stained glass and paintings of Jesus holding lambs, the Christian Spiritualist God is one I do not recognize.The Trinity I grew up with frowns upon witchcraft, Ouija boards,alien-abductions and crystals of all kinds. But are these spiritualists actually practicing Christian-craft since they profess to be consulting the Holy Spirit and practicing the gift of prophecy? Hmmm…
Post-reiki healing, I make the psychic table rounds. There are a few total wackos, like the lady who sees me as a queen rat standing on its hind legs holding a spear and dancing to the sounds of rock-n-roll. She interprets this to mean I should stand up for myself and have more fun. (There are a great many things I need improve in my life, but standing up for myself? Not one of them. I’ve already got great standing-up skillz. And nun-chuck skillz, if my nun-chucks are defined as standing-up-for-myself profanity.)
However, there are a few mediums who are right on– including Pastor Carol. She tells me I just got a pet (yes, puppy Oxley) which makes me look to see if I am covered in fur. (I’m not.) She informs me I am on a spiritual journey to enlighten many. (I hope.) She channels my long-dead grandfather who encourages me to, “Persevere!”. Which, according to my mother, is something he said. I ask another woman –she of the Bulging Eye and plaid shirt–, “What about my writing career?” to which she replies, “I’m getting the number thirty regarding your writing.” Ummm, my book is entitled Thirty by Thirty so, yeah, my jaw drops open on that one.

First Christian Spiritualist Temple

I took a few lessons away from this experience:
A.) The term “Christian” is more pluralistic than I thought. That is, you really need to ask a person what they mean when they ask, “Are you a Christian?”
B.) Avoid psychics that do not have a table on the perimeter (aka: rat lady).
C.) It may be best to avoid psychics and energy readers altogether. More about this in my next post.
If you too would like to experience the strangeness of the First Christian Spiritualist Temple, you can do so at their Saturday spiritual forum on the first Saturday of every month. For the bargain price of $15 (with coupon), you can obtain hours of Christian-psychic fun with multiple readings, healing, and a light vegetarian lunch. http://www.christianspiritualisttemple.org/index.html
Truthfully though, I do not recommend it based on what happened to me after I got home; it was not good. More to come on that…
**FYI: I would cross the street to avoid a man of any race dressed like this.
Tags
Faith, Faith blog, theology,Reba Riley,thirty by thirty, 30 by 30, thirty x thirty, 30×30, faith, faith blog, God, blog faith, on faith blog, faith blogs, faith & theology, faith theology, unreasonable faith,on faith washington post,washington post on faith,church, christian,Jesus,hope, Bible,what is faith,faith in God, faith book,world religion,religions world,the major religions, lost faith, lose faith,losing faith in faith,confidence in God, losing my faith,faith God, find faith,find your faith, christian spiritualism, christian spiritualists

Da-da-daah….(Drum roll please)… The Inaugural Blog Post!

I view religion from a different perspective

I am the original Spiritual Scrooge.

      If the Ghost of Rebecca Future had appeared to me this time last year, all Dickens’ Christmas Carol-style, and told me what I’d be doing today (December 9, 2011), I would have borrowed Tiny Tim’s crutch, boinked the haunting over the head, and sent her packing back to her future. “No way am I ever going back to church,” I’d huff and puff, stewing in all my Post-Traumatic Church Syndrome rage. “I’ll never, ever have daily conversations about my spiritual path. Heart awakening? Journey of the soul? Bah, Humbug!”
     I’d pull together all my bad memories, all the pain inflicted on me by hard-line theology and hurtful people, and wrap them around me like a miser’s coat. “How dare she!” I’d say in total exasperation, “just imagine me going to thirty places of worship before I turn thirty…and writing about the experience? Yeah…. right.” I’d recall how the church ate my faith for breakfast at 20*, and when faith broke up with me in a Starbucks*. I’d hoard all these thoughts in my little treasure trove of spiritual self-pity, and continue sitting in the cold, dark house I’d built to keep God out… to keep me in… to keep things safe.
     And just like Scrooge, I’d soon be proven wrong.
     Because today I awoke at 4:45am to attend morning prayers in a little Eastern Orthodox chapel with an archbishop monk who looks alarmingly like Santa Claus (aka Father Christmas). I did this willingly, of my own volition….it was even my idea. And that’s not all, folks. In the past 208 days since my 29th birthday (5/15/11), I’ve attended eighteen places of worship…and liked it. (Well,most of it.)
     I’ve revisited the church of my childhood without breaking into hives and ventured into uncharted Atheistic territory. I’ve suffered through an awkward pickup attempt at a post-meditative Buddhist tea service (poor guy didn’t notice my left-hand ring), hugged it out with the African-American Baptists, and been nearly evicted from my synagogue seat for breaking the Sabbath rules. I’ve found out why Hogs Are Evil from the Seventh-Day Adventists and endured an ear-splitting “THOU SHALT TITHE SO THE LORD WILL BLESS YOU” sermon courtesy of the Pentecostals. I’ve attended church in a basement, a movie theater, a cathedral and even a parking lot.
     But the most important thing I’ve done is what I’m still in the process of doing… cracking open my door to the Light and warmth that is the God-iverse. (God+Universe=God-iverse). I’m trading in my wardrobe of bad memories for the wealth of a God who is is bigger than I’d ever imagined.
     I’m discovering  there is room at His** table for all His children…and I’m just now pulling up my seat. Care to join me?
     If so, please follow my ThirtyByThirty.com blog for tales of my thirty visits to places of worship and my thoughts on the God-iverse.  I realize I’m starting this blog smack-dab in the middle of Thirty by Thirty (157 days to go), so forgive me if I have to backtrack at times to fill in the story. What I do not cover in the blog will be addressed in the book…to be published after I get an agent and a publisher! Feel free to ask questions, post comments, and challenge my assumptions and experience. The only thing I know for sure is that I know nothing for sure.
     My spiritual journey doesn’t fit neatly into a box with a pre-printed label, and it may not be wrapped as prettily as yours. Mine is the ugly present under the tree—you know, the one with newspaper that’s barely duct-taped together?
But even so, I believe every journey (even mine) comes with a little tag that reads just as Scrooge’s story ends and this blog begins: God Bless Us, Every One!
*Stories for another post.
**The use of the masculine form of God is in my spiritual DNA. If it doesn’t fit for you, please substitute the feminine. The capitalization denotes my reverence for the God-iverse.
And now…on to Thirty by Thirty,  30×30,  30 by 30, Thirtyx30, or 30byThirty…no matter how you spell it; it’s 365 days, 30 places of worship, and once chance to find faith.
Tags
Faith, Faith blog, theology,Reba Riley,thirty by thirty, 30 by 30, thirty x thirty, 30×30, faith, faith blog, God, blog faith, on faith blog, faith blogs, faith & theology, faith theology, unreasonable faith,on faith washington post,washington post on faith,church, christian,Jesus,hope, Bible,what is faith,faith in God, faith book,world religion,religions world,the major religions, lost faith, lose faith,losing faith in faith,confidence in God, losing my faith,faith God, find faith,find your faith