Not My Religion

I went to a huge church last Sunday. It was brand new with seating 3 levels high. In the nose bleed sections were mounted LCD monitors so you could still see the pastor. There was an elevator, parking attendants, stage lights, and full surround sound.

The lesson series that the pastor had chosen to kick off the start of the new building with was the first chapters of Genesis. The lights dimmed and all the screens lit up. It starts up with the famous Venetian sculpture of man and woman. Man with curly locks of stone and washboard stomach. Woman with the voluptuous curves that were the predecessors of modern ideas of female sexuality.

Classical music plays for twenty seconds. They stand next to an apple tree.

Then it switches over to Kanye West's "Gold digger." Photoshopped clothes and jewelery appear on both Adam and Eve. Eve is holding a red apple. A Emerald Tree Python pokes his head out from behind the tree. A red H3 Hummer pulls up.

I makes me laugh at how the interpretation of Christianity has changed. I had friends who would refer to Jesus as their boyfriend. I laughed at that with Greg. We were fairly certain that Christ's relationship to us extends a little deeper and a little differently than the male-female conception of it. And if that theological view point stands true then what about the men of the world. Do we don rainbow shirts and start talking about how we can't wait to get to heaven to skip hand-in-hand with our "bf..." Jesus. Or is Jesus our homeboy like I've seen so many bumper stickers advertise. We just kick it wit Christtt in da afta life... Or we'll sit on some porch smoking stogies and we'll say, "Hey Jesus, did you really turn water into wine." And Jesus will say, "Heck ya." And we'll say, "YeeeHaw!"

This is my problem. This is so superficial. And I'm not claiming to not be. I'm bothered by this in myself more than anyone. I love how Facebook now has this little religion category. You can write whatever you want in there. But when it boils down to it we're just using words.

I remember in Sunday school the teacher would ask me.
"Matthew, do you believe in God?"
I'd reply, "YES!"
The teacher would respond, "Why?"
I'd shrug. "Because he believes in me, and we are not meant to live in of ourselves, we were made incomplete and we need God to complete ourselves."
"Ummm...."
Then one of the other kids would raise their hand.
"Yes," the teacher would point to them.
"Because...so we can go to Heaven!!!"
And the teacher would smile and I would know the answers that my parents told me and the answers that church wanted were often two different things.

Yet the Sunday school theology continues. We want to go to heaven to kick it with our other "Christian" friends and God the Father and Jesus the Son. You never really want to hang out with the Holy Ghost. He's like a third wheel or the ugly friend that you acknowledge but never talk to.

The fact of the matter is we know little to nothing about what life past this will be like. We know a little bit of it. The little bit we know is not enough to make me want it. For me Heaven has always only been the better of two options. I'm sure if I knew the whole thing I'd think differently. But we only know some, and it's like only knowing part of an address or only the first six numbers of a phone number (area code included). You have an idea, a general vicinity.

But we take our own beliefs to be utter truth. I hate that.

But what will you do? Christianity has been an evolving thing since the very start. As long as there are sheep there will be people following Sunday school teachers for their entire lives. As long as there are individuals there will be people over thinking it.

Jared asked me what life is. I told him, "Life is distracting yourself from the fact that you are dying." Part of me believes that.

Part of me still believes that idea of Jesus drinking beer with me watching Entourage and eating peanuts.

Part of me accepts that we are never complete, that my answer when I was six was right.

There are all these parts of me, some conflicting, some agreeing, some rending apart. We are all just parts and pieces of what we don't understand.