SPIRITUALLY SPEAKING

I did not grow up in a house where my parents took me to church, yet, I always knew about Jesus and church for several reasons.  First of all, I don’t know that one can grow up in the southern part of the United States “The Bible Belt” and NOT know about church.  My maternal grandmother was a regular churchgoer.  I have paternal cousins who were involved with church.  My maternal great grandmother and paternal grandfather did not attend church, but were always tuning in to the television teaching programs of, among others, Herbert W. Armstrong who was a television and radio evangelist and founder of the Worldwide Church of God.  I would regularly see these grandparents studying the Bible.

I would attend church with my cousins sometimes, and would attend Vacation Bible School every summer when I visited my grandmother.  On occasion, my dad would take me to church when I would ask.  Yet, it wasn’t until Junior High school that I, myself, became involved in church.  I joined my Aunt Jean’s church and was baptized on April 3, 1988, which just happened to be Easter Sunday that year. My parents and grandparents attended my baptism.  I still vividly recall my father sobbing the entire time.  To this day still really have no idea what that was about, and I never felt inclined or comfortable enough to ask.  I quickly became involved in the youth group of the church, choir, Sunday school…you name it, I was involved.   While church was something I did, it was something I did apart from my parents.  They would attend special events—maybe a Christmas or Easter cantata, but otherwise, they supported my decision to go to church, but were not involved themselves.   I was there every Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday.   When I became able to play piano for church, I was doing that.  Church was my thing. It’s what I did. I graduated from high school and went off to a Southern Baptist –affiliated college, thinking that would a safe harbor for my budding spiritual and intellectual mind. 

 

When I arrived at my quaint college in the hills of southeastern Kentucky, the veil was quickly lifted that not everyone there was necessarily “Christian”.  The Utopia I had imagined did not exist, however, I would spend the next 5 years there and loving every minute of it.  We were required to attend chapel or “convocation” as it was called, every Monday at 10 am.   Everything on the campus stopped at that time on Monday morning for convocation.  It really didn’t matter if you were a Christian or not—you were going to be in chapel. 

 

While in college, I began coming to terms with my sexual orientation and how that related to my spiritual journey.   After coming out, my spiritual journey led me to the United Methodist church before I graduated from college.   I found a place of peace for my soul there, with the high liturgical service, comforting messages from the pulpit that applied to my life, and music that provided a balm to my hurting soul.   When I moved to Birmingham after I graduated, I tried several United Methodist churches in the city and couldn’t find the same experience I’d had in Knoxville. 

My first and then-partner, Edward, is Catholic, so I started attending mass with him.   I had no intention to become Catholic, but I soon found myself singing in the choir, and, in the fall of 1999 sitting in the RCIA class, which is the class leading to membership in the Catholic church.  At the Easter Saturday mass in 2000, I was received into full communion with the Roman Catholic Church, receiving the sacraments of Confirmation and Holy Eucharist. 

I’m often asked why, given the Catholic Church’s stance on homosexuality, how I can align myself with the church.  My answer is that I am, as most American Catholics, a “Cafeteria Catholic”.  It’s a fact I readily admit.  I pick and choose the teachings of the church I agree with and ignore those with which I disagree.   After all, God gave me a sound mind and the ability to reason and make my own decisions.  Since my coming out in 1996 and fully accepting and learning to love the person I believe God created me to be, I truly cannot reconcile that God hates me.  I do love the rich liturgy and tradition of the Church, and I would not be a part of a church that would make God out to be anything other than loving.

 

“So, what about the Bible?” I’m asked.  "What about it?", I say.  It’s simple.  I don’t take it literally word for word, but rather from a historical context, and try to interpret its teachings for the modern day.  Language and culture have changed since the “Bible” came into being.   To some of you, I’m bordering, if I haven’t already crossed over, into heresy.   However, taking the Bible literally word for word makes no sense to me.  That is how I relate to God.

 

While I am proud to call myself a Catholic, I’ll also readily admit that I am very eclectic in my spiritual life.   I attend mass, I work for a Catholic church as a musician, but if I were to change “denominations” within Christendom, I would most certainly become an Episcopalian.  It has all the beauty and integrity of the Catholic mass, with just enough of my protestant roots to keep me satisfied.   Another thing I’ll admit is that I also find wisdom in Buddhism.  Again, call me a heretic, but if you really look closely at the CENTRAL teachings of Christ and Buddha (which, by the way, predates Christianity), they both taught of the one thing there is just too little of-LOVE.   It’s that simple, my friends.  LOVE.  The TRUTH of the matter is that Christ wasn’t a Christian and Buddha wasn’t a Buddhist.   Yet, we should strive to follow their teachings, because they lead us to love and enlightenment, which is what they both taught.

 

Here’s my confession:  My grandfather always said that you don’t bring up two issues: Religion and Politics.   Well, I won’t delve into politics, but I can’t stay silent about religion (or spirituality as I like to call it), because it is an integral part of who I am.  I believe that regardless of what we call ourselves—Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Protestant, Catholic or any of thousands of other possibilities, we are all trying to travel the same road, with the same destination in mind, to get to our creator, to get “home”, as it were.   How do I reconcile my faith with my sexual orientation?   I don’t have a concrete answer for that, but I know that when I let go of fighting and questioning God, that is when I found peace in my spirit, and I don’t think that it’s some lie of the “devil” either.  I truly believe that I have experienced a supreme being in my life. I’m indeed a spiritual being living a human life, and if we are really honest, aren't we all?