Working on Christmas Day

There's beauty in the harshness of a cold winter at christmas

Christmas Day, cold and alone at work. That sounds much worse than it is. The emptiness of blank concrete and steel kept cold with a freezing wind chill shows the contrast of the merriment of the season. I wouldn't know one without the other.

The emptiness seems endless at times, but i'm not complaining. The one thing I do want is to be left alone. To just have my thoughts and be at peace. So being cold and alone at work on Christmas is really a good Christmas present. Can't reasonably hope for more than that.

The clouds on the political front are troubling I suppose. Like the clouds today could give us snow. Dark and gloomy. Feels like it could snow but the weatherman isnt sending any.

Old timers used to say my generation was the end of civilization, and now we say the same. Those same clouds that gave us snow years ago, don't give us anything today.

Are we at the end or is it just another empty cloudy day. Only time will tell. I can say it seems more real now, but I guess that's what my grandparents said 50 years ago.

It is easy to get caught up in the finger wagging, tongue lashing, emotional baggage of moaning and groaning about the state of the world. Its just an emotional game to get us upset and to ignore a greater travesty.

Of course no one wants to work on Christmas, but the lot fell to me and so it goes. I didn't care too much this year. Somehow I just never got into the Christmas spirit. I didn't go to any music or performances of any kind, and to maybe only one lights display. But the holiday spirit – the reason for the season – lives in my heart and mind.

Today more than others I see how the attitude affects reality, or how the emotional state confirms or denies the reality that exists. Its easy to write with passion when I feel the blues. Somehow its harder when life is good.

Remembering ghosts of Christmas past, the story never gets old. Missing the snow that used to cover the pine trees at home, but home isnt there anymore. The snow isn't either, so times have changed.

It is still cold though, never did even get up to freezing today, so it's probably still in the 20s.

A slight breeze made it worse at times, tried to keep my back to the north.

The end of the day comes as the sun sinks in the west. Another Christmas Day is gone. Gathering my things and heading home. Another day in paradise lost. The dark clouds are threatening. I smile. Thanks, but not today my old friend. Bring your darkness back another time.

Finding God in new ways

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Going to church is boring.
It's a provocative statement.  It's not because there's anything wrong with the church. I could try another one. I have done that before and not had much luck. Something might be a little bit better somewhere else, but that would not fix the problem.
For years the idea of going to church has been the hallmark of what being a Christian is about. We go for an hour - maybe two hours if you go to Sunday School too - and its the same thing every week. Maybe the names of the songs are different, and maybe there's a different series or topic now and then in the sermon, but essentially it never changes.
There was a time when I liked church and even looked forward to it. Now its more with a sense of dread that I wake up on Sunday morning. The church hasn't changed. I've no complaints. I think it is my that has changed.
The problem is not the church, and for a long time, I thought the problem was me. Now I am seeing that neither the church nor myself are to blame.
There is a great book, called Sacred Pathways, Gary Thomas, that gets at this problem.
It sounds kind of new age, but it isn't.  He talks about different pathways in the sense of how we relate to God. It is not about God but it is about how we relate, or how we get there.
Modern day Christianity presents a one-size-fits-all package, and the reality is we are all very different and one size does not fit all.  The modern-day package includes going to church, maybe Sunday School too, maybe being part of a small group and having fellowship with other believers.
Those things are ok, but I think I have changed some, to the point that these things no longer connect me to the higher power.
In his book, Gary Thomas talks about this very problem.
We all have different personalities. We all relate to things differently.
Thomas lists a few possibilities, and there may be more.
Some people are moved by music, some by study, some by acts of service. The key is to find the one that works for you or even the combination that works best for you.
A friend used to invite me to conferences. I'm sure the speakers were good, and the food probably was too, but I always declined. To me, there could be nothing more awful or boring than sitting around listening to speakers all day and then having to discuss those speakers.  I do this a couple hours a week and that's too much already, so a full day would be beyond what I could stand.
However, a walk in the woods, or even listening to some music, would do a lot of good for my spirit and my connection to God. Also thinking about some deep theological question would point me in a good direction.
Philippians  2:12 says, "continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling."
What this means is, we should continue to work out the details of our relationship with God. "Fear and trembling" is a phrase used in the bible to mean with seriousness.  The scripture's don't say to go church necessarily. But I think the implication of this verse is to find out what works for you. That may not be what works for other people. But this is not about changing God or the message of the gospel. Rather, it is about changing how we relate to God.
I found the book by Gary Thomas to be very helpful. He lists eight pathways, and he says you may find a combination of more than one would work best for you. There may be even other ways. There is a "test" in the book to find where you fit among the eight pathways, and that might be a good thing. But remember this is not gospel.
Thomas also recommends trying out new things, and to perhaps develop some new ways to appreciate God.

The eight pathways he lists are:

• Naturalist: Seeing God in nature, experiencing God in the natural world.
• Sensate: Using all of the senses - touch, taste, sight, smell etc.
• Traditionalists: These would be churchgoers who love the church. Rituals and such.
• Ascetics: Personal disciplines like fasting or other harsh treatment of the body
• Activists: Getting involved in your community, seeking justice for others
• Caregivers: Taking care of people or acts of service
• Enthusiasts: As the name implies, excitement and enthusiasm rule.
• Intellectuals: Studying, these are the theologians. Seeking new realities and truth.
• Contemplative: This can also be seen as celebrating, but it is meditation, focusing on who God is. A contemplative is more concerned with God than religion.

Each of these has its place, but the important thing is to find one that fits you and your spiritual temperament. But remember the pathway is yours, and not the one for anyone else. A pitfall in Christianity is that sometimes we find our path and expect others to take the same one.

For me its a heavy dose of naturalist and intellectual, with a touch of contemplative. 

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Reactions to the gospel, doubt versus faith at Christmas

As Christmas approaches, we celebrate the coming of Christ into the world. As Christians, we have also had Christ “born” in our hearts when we received a relationship with Him. Even today, we may have many “receptions” of Christ.
In Luke Chapter 1, we see how two people reacted differently to the arrival of Jesus.
The Angel Gabriel was sent to a priest named Zechariah, and to a peasant girl named Mary, and he announced the coming of Jesus to both of them.
Zechariah was a priest, and according to the text a righteous man. He was a faithful follower of God, and as a Priest had a certain rank. If anyone would be expected to have faith, it would be Zechariah.
He was chosen to burn incense before the altar of God, which was done yearly. This was a very high honor as the priest was standing in front of the altar in the presence of God. The priest would actually enter the Holy of Holies, which was done only at this time each year.
This was how it had been done since the time of Moses as the priest made atonement for the sins of the nation of Israel.
According to Jewish legend, when priests went to the altar for this duty, a rope was tied around their leg just in case they were struck dead by the Spirit. If any sin was found in them, this could likely happen.
The text tells us he was a righteous man and had been praying fervently for years, asking God to give him and his wife a son.
Now, in his old age, he sees an angel, Gabriel, who is bringing him the news that he will indeed have a son. That son is to be John the Baptist.
But even so, Zechariah doubts. He asks the angel how he can know for sure. In essence, he was asking for a sign that the angel’s words were true. The Jewish leaders all had this problem … a basic lack of faith in God. When Jesus ministered on the earth, the Jewish leadership constantly hounded Him for a sign.
Gabriel was no common angel. He is the one that stands before God, implying a special relationship. He had been sent to both of them with a specific message.
It is interesting to note that Zechariah was standing before God at the moment. By offering the incense, he was doing on an earthly level what Gabriel was doing on a heavenly level.
Even so, he asked for a sign as though he really did not believe.
Zechariah would still receive the promise even though he had not believed, but he would not be able to speak until the child was born.
Later in the chapter, we see a much different scenario as Gabriel appears to Mary, to tell her that she will bear the Christ child.
Mary was probably a basic peasant girl without much education. Many people probably would not have considered her a spiritual giant. And as you might expect, she was terrified at seeing an angel.
Here response is much different than Zechariah’s response though. After just a little questioning, she believes the angel.
“I am the Lord’s Servant. May it be as you have said,” she told him.
Her faith was simple but effective.
While Zechariah had all the education and connections, he failed in the crunch, to have simple faith.
If we compare the two people, we can see that perhaps religious position does not necessarily translate to being truly close to God.

As we celebrate Jesus coming into the world, let us ponder how we will receive Him on a daily basis in our lives.

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The Christmas story through the eyes of Easter

In the beginning was the word, and the word was God. That is a paraphrase of John 1:1, which the writer uses to introduce the Christmas story.  God became flesh and lived on the earth. This was a  radical thought in those days, and it is now.  The synoptic gospels - or the other three - tell a more traditional story of the birth of Christ. John jumps right to the spiritual meaning.

This is perhaps a unique thing in Christianity, that God would actually come to earth and live as a human being. That is radical enough, but he also came to die to pay the penalty for our sins.

The meaning of Jesus was this - "In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind."

In the very beginning, in the Adam and Eve story, sin entered the world. Human beings rebelled. Some call this original sin. We are not guilty of original sin, that is not what makes us guilty. It is because we do the same things they did. Original sin just means where it originated. 

But God loved his creation.

There's some deep mystery here, but in some way, God wanted to have a relationship with his creation. He set about pursuing us. The scripture says we love God because he first loved us. It also says, while we were dead in our sins, he made us alive together with Christs.

Constantly people have tried to find a way to get to god, to have a relationship that way. This is the basis of religion - seeking God.

There were lots of efforts to make us "good," or to make us acceptable to God.

The radical idea of God was to come to earth in human form.  Some say he came to show us how to live, but I've never really thought that was true. 

Instead, I think the reason God came to earth as a human was to be the ultimate sacrifice. The Reason Jesus was born was Easter.
Jesus had to be both God and Man, and doing this in some miraculous way, makes this happen. Jesus gets his human origin from Mary and his heavenly origin from God himself.

The story in the synoptic gospels explains how this came about. The virgin birth takes on new meaning when we think of God arriving in human form. Some people try to explain this away, and even point out that in the ancient prophecies, the word "virgin" can be translated "young woman." Granted, but if that were the case, why would there be a prophecy about a young woman having a baby. That happens a lot all around the world every day, so it doesn't make much sense as a prophecy if just a young woman is all that is in mind.

Rather the virgin birth matters more on the theological level than even the physical. In terms of the physical world, it was a miracle. 

Theologically it is how we get the idea that Jesus was both fully God and fully man at the same time. In order for the sacrifice to do what was intended, it was essential that Jesus be both God and man. For that to happen, he had to be born of a virgin.

The virgin birth becomes a key part of Christian theology.

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My spiritual jouney: Learning the religions

From college days an onward for a while, I sought new ideas. Learning new things was actually a lot of fun, and even interesting in most cases. I found there were a lot of interpretations and variations on religion in my area, even though this was southern Appalachia where it is pretty much all Christian.
I studied some theology in college and found it fascinating. There was also the general study of religion itself, which was also interesting. I Checked out a lot of groups over a few years, staying with most a few months.

Each group thought it was the best of course, and they wanted you to join up with them. That wasn't really enough though, in most cases they wanted you to also help them criticize the other groups.
I saw that a lot, but it wasn't always the case. And I had my own legalistic moments I'm sure.
There were some groups I liked.

The Presbyterians and their systematic theology appealed to me in a great way. Theology should make sense, they said, and that sounded great. I had always wanted for it to make sense and be at least for the most part reasonable and logical.  So we interpreted the Bible in that light, and we studied theology. It was good, but it was academic in many respects. That was partly because it was at university, but it was also partly because of the people involved. I was as guilty as any of them of just focusing on the mental aspects, and even denigrating the emotional aspects.

Maybe God was telling me something by then exposing me to the charismatics. They believed you could "name and claim" anything you wanted because you were a child of God. If you had enough faith you could move mountains. It didn't help much that the person telling me all this had a cold the next day and could not just make it go away.  But I did like their spirit and their music.  I liked the way they seemed sold out to what they believed in. There were some good things here, and they had the spirit. There was a lot I liked about them, but the glaring problem was that "name it and claim it" just didn't work. It also was not in the bible as far as I could tell.

Again a great divide was presenting itself.
Should I go with the systematic theology that appealed to my brain, or with the name it and claim it crowd that appealed to my emotions.  What I really wanted was a church that had both. A place that could engage the mind and heart as one. I found a few places that claimed to be that, but eventually, they would lean far to one side.
Of course, there were other groups. There were the fire and brimstone, hellfire preachers, but they didn't grab my imagination at all. There was the middle of the road groups like the Baptists or Methodists, or even the non-denominational groups, and they seemed ok. They just didn't inspire me the way the Presbyterians or charismatics did.

As time went on I started noticing a strange thing inside myself. Whenever I would meet a new group there were be a sort of "inner witness" or inner voice that either said yes or no. It seemed to tell me to listen to this person but not that person. Very often I would find out the voice was correct and that the one it warned me about was not real or true.
I didn't have words for this at the time, and could barely even consciously notice it, but at the same time, I knew it was there. I didn't know what to make of it and didn't understand it enough to even talk about it.

The ideology of Judas and his betrayal of Jesus

Judas betrayed Jesus because his ideology clouded how he saw the Messiah

Judas betrayed Jesus. Then filled with remorse, he went and hanged himself. He obviously was not expecting Jesus to be arrested, or for things to go the way they did. His name is the traitor.
But why would he do this?
He had walked with Jesus for three years. He had heard the teaching and seen the miracles. He was part of the inner circle.
He betrayed Jesus for 30 pieces of silver, which was a good chunk of change, but it wasn't all that much. It wasn't for the money. And it is clear from the Biblical stories, the outcome was not what Judas expected.
It even seems that Jesus was egging him on in some ways.
The religious leaders wanted rid of Jesus, and they were looking for a way to make that happen. They were also well aware of the politics of the situation. It would be a public relations nightmare if they did anything to him. They needed someone to “lay the charge.” They needed an excuse, and they wanted the hated Romans to do the deed so they would appear innocent.
If it was one of his own disciples who betrayed him, that was even better, so they were happy to pay whatever price was needed. It seems Judas did what God wanted in some ways, it wasn't necessary for it to be him. That doesn't get him off the hook.
He still betrayed Jesus. But the question remains. Why? What could his motivation really have been?
It's always intrigued me, what happened after the betrayal.
Judas and many others of the day wanted Jesus to overthrow Rome. They wanted the Messiah to come, but they had formed the idea that the primary duty of the Messiah was to overthrow Rome and set up the kingdom of Israel again. Since that was what they wanted, and indeed that is part of the Old Testament prophecy, they had no room for any other kind of Messiah. Their anti-Rome ideology colored everything they saw, including how they saw the Messiah.
Judas may have thought his action would set the wheels in motion. Jesus would be arrested, he would call down angels out of heaven to rain fire on Rome, and would then lead the revolution. Judas' dreams for his country would be realized, and of course, he would no doubt hold a high position in Jesus kingdom. He may have even thought he was doing what Jesus wanted.
He heard the teachings of Jesus. Maybe he even heard Jesus tell them that he would be crucified and that he had come for that purpose. He might have even heard Jesus say blessed are the poor, turn the other cheek and so forth.
But Judas was blinded by ideology. He had an agenda and the Messiah was going to fulfill that agenda. He came to Jesus with preconceived notions as to who the Messiah would be, so it was hard for him to see the real message.
Thinking beyond the betrayal itself. How did Judas get to this point? How did his ideology affect his actions? How did his ideology cause him to miss the message? Is there a message here for us today? How does ideology affect how you perceive the world?

My spiritual journey: The spirit against the flesh

Why must we compartmentalize things? Why do I compartmentalize things?
This is spiritual, that is not. This is physical, this is mental, this is spiritual. I was as guilty as anyone of doing it, but even as I did, I wondered if there was not a better way.
Changing channels on the TV. My inner world seemed that way most of the time.
It was easier I guess and that may be why we do it. Inner turmoil can rage at times. The desires of the spirit go against the desires of the flesh, and then there are desires of other people who want various things.  I didn't even know what I wanted.
Then there was the idea of good and evil. Like the Greeks,  I felt the spirit and the flesh were like oil and water. They could not mix. Everything in the flesh was evil, everything of the spirit was good. That is a simplistic approach, and it solves things in some ways but creates a dissonance that is hard to overcome.
There were mountain tops and valleys in those days. Hot and bleak deserts, but also glorious mountain peaks that were beyond description.  You don't really understand the mountain tops without understanding the desert.
Inevitably there was performance-based acceptance.
And detours into sensuality, which of course I thought was wrong because flesh was wrong.
Faith endured though. So many questions without answers, it was just easier to put things in their compartment and never let them mix.

My spiritual journey: Rebel without a clue

It all sounds negative in some ways. There were questions that had no answers. There was being misunderstood. There was angst in the things I did not know.  At least to some degree though, I did know what I didn't know, and I knew that was a good thing.

I was still attracted to religion, like a moth drawn to a flame perhaps. There was this God-awareness that was always there just beneath the surface. I tried to sort out all the different groups and all the different beliefs. Why would God be divided, I wondered, as did St. Paul. I gravitated to non-denominational churches, not realizing this in itself was a division.

Separating all the different theologies was the salve that soothed me in many ways. It is said a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and in some ways it was.  I could proof-text as well as anyone, and became adept and finding a phrase that fit in with what I wanted to believe.

Debating various theologies, I learned how to defend my own and discredit anyone else.  Some victories and some losses, but it always left me wanting. Wanting what I'm not sure. There was still something missing. How can you know? was my question. How can you know God?  Even though I did have that God-Awareness, there was still something I could not define.

This caused some people to stop believing in God, or to at least stop believing in religion.

I never could imagine not believing in God. How could you not believe in something that is obvious? To me, that was like doubting the existence of the Sun, or the earth itself.  This was no cause for boosting my ego and it did not make me feel better.  It actually made me feel worse.

This was my scenario.
I know for certain God exists.
Religion must know God, at least  I think it should.
Religion cannot answer my questions.
God won't answer them either.

Frustration and anger boiled. Which is worse? Knowing there are answers and not being able to find any answers or just not believing there are any answers in the first place?

My spiritual journey: A dim enlightenment

As I got into reading more and studying more about religion, and Christianity in particular, I saw a dichotomy in the religious world. This was when I was in college, and just starting to see the whole wide world out there, and all the things that could be studied.
That included the Bible and religious literature.
It seemed to me the scriptures were about love and peace, about having a relationship with God. It seemed like religion - Christianity - was more about following rules.
By rules, I mean the rules of religion, not rules found in the bible. The scriptural rules are pretty clear. Don't steal, hurt others, avoid sexual sins and such. The church rules were different. Things like length of hair, whether you drank alcohol or smoked, seemed to be a big deal in a lot of the churches. There were also rules about music that some followed.
And then I read in the New Testament, in the gospels, about how Jesus was always getting on the religious people for making religion about rules and not about following God.
What really didn't make sense to me was what actually happened when you bought into the rules scenario. On one side you had those that were fairly blatant hypocrites who claimed to follow the rules but really didn't. On the other hand, were a more graceful bunch, who said you just had to try as hard as you could, and while you would fail that would be good enough.
There were those that claimed they did follow the rules and if you missed just one you lost your salvation and would go to hell immediately. I never took the third group very seriously. I did not approve of the first group so by my default was that second group. Just try hard as you can and that will be enough. Well it wasn't enough and I didn't like it, but it was the least objectionable of the options I was aware of at the time.
Not believing in God was not an option. I knew people that did not. But I remembered the dreams of my youth. I remembered a rainbow river where I met with God before I had even heard of god. As I have said, I knew about God before I ever saw a book or knew how to read.
But figuring out just what that meant, and what I should do about it, was hard.  I found very few people who even understood my questions.
Those things became a distant memory, and I think I was actually distracted by academia. Learning about God, the bible, theology and such, was very interesting. It was also fun to "defend" the faith
and my theology. It became a convenient place to hide. I put my questions away and went with the flow for many years.

My spiritual journey: Hope at last

I had tried reading the bible some, and even knew a few verses. It was hard to understand. Someone gave me a Living Bible late in my high school years, and that did change things. This was controversial at the time. The King James Version was seen as the gold standard, and some even thought the Living Bible was from the devil. I was a little surprised when I asked my pastor about it, and he said if you were reading the bible - even the Living Bible - that was a good thing.

And I did read it. I could understand it, and it was really enjoyable. I devoured it. I read the whole thing over a few weeks, and then started again. The barren landscape of my internal world began to not be so bleak. I just enjoyed the stories. I was beginning to get an idea about God and what God was all about.

It never occurred to me that these were actual stories of actual events. My first reaction to actually reading the bible was one of wonder and mystery. This mystery was different though. Before God seemed distant, unknowable. Now, it began to be knowable, but the mysteries remained. There was at least the possibility of understanding a little bit and that gave me hope.

Later on when I heard that you should take every story and every word literally, I just shrugged and didn't know if that made sense or not. I didn't care really. Just as I was well aware of my own internal world, which did not always line up with the external world, I felt this was a glimpse into the inner world of God himself. The stories were the point, not whether it was a literal account of history.

There was also something mystical about reading the words. They were different than other words. This was no ordinary book. My barren internal landscape began to bloom with color and shape. The rainbow river began to flow again.

The only problem was that it seemed like what they taught in church didn't line up with what I was reading in the Bible.  Church seemed focused on rules, things you did and so forth. Jesus said to love your neighbor and that was the fulfillment of the law. To me it was a contradiction anyway. 

My spiritual journey: Internal world

The anger simmered in the late teen years. Soothed by music, but still it was there just under the surface. I didn't know it at the time, but I had ADHD, and that caused issues in dealing with the material world. They thought I was lazy and not paying attention. I was really just bored and wished they would get to the point. Classes in school were frightfully boring. History almost got interesting, and creative writing was fun. Beyond that, I didn't care much.

I didn't at first know what the more important things were, but I was beginning to see my own internal world. The landscape of my own imagination, my own take on the world, and often the rest was just noise. The music would take me there, and to some extent I even made my own. I understood the spirituality of music. It was something that could transport me back to the rainbow river at times, but that was becoming just a faded memory. A nebulous thing of feeling good ant not knowing or caring why. I thought it was just the music.

After the Beatles broke up, they were doing individual albums. George Harrison – all spiritual and eastern influenced – made some great music. His song My Sweet Lord became my anthem.

These lyrics ..

I really want to see you
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you, Lord
But it takes so long, my Lord

That was how I felt, but how to do that? My internal landscape was barren, and while music was an oasis, it tended to dry up at times. The song stayed with me, haunting me. Church had rules and external trappings that could make you look religious. Harrison seemed to be on to something, but even he lamented that it took so long. So the search continued, and music was a huge part of that.

Church was about how people acted - the external aspects. I was more interested in learning about God - about relating to my internal world, but seemed unable to find a way to do so. It just seemed the internal world should be first, and the external world would be a natural reflection of that. That was the cause of the dissonance, or disconnect I had with the church. 

My Spiritual Journey: The long road

For years my world was a desert, but there was music, and that was what sustained me.

For a long time it seemed rules were all that there was. God was a mean guy in the sky that would smack you down if you sinned. Or at least send you to hell when you died, so you better not die. We were told to get saved and then be good. Or maybe you had to be good first and then be saved. But being good just involved avoiding certain sins. It seemed like a lot of times it was more about not getting caught sinning than actually avoiding the various sins. I wanted answers though, not just platitudes or more rules. I didn't know what I wanted really at the time, i wasn't even a teenager yet, but it was more just wanting to know the whys and hows of things. Even then the rules seemed like an easy answer to a complex question.

I did feel guilty though and perhaps that was what the rules were for. But my guilt was more than the rules. I wasn't smoking, drinking or whatever else there was. The casual eye I was a basic good kid that went to church and did well in school.  I wasn't a problem for the adult authorities. Inside was a very different story.

Overwhelming guilt and shame that soon came to live inside me. Secrets on many levels.

Some things I felt guilty for were not even my doing.  Seeing things no one should see before my teen years began, and secretly enjoying some of the sins of others. These were things no one talked about, and I sure didn't want to talk about it.  Sneaking peeks at forbidden things. Emotions smothering me from all sides. There was no one to turn to.

There were my little secrets. Only they would not have been little if anyone had known. I used to cry out to God for some sort of sense out of all of this. But there were no answers. There was humiliation around every corner. Someone who knew the secrets of things behind closed doors, knew my connection. Mutual embarrassment ensued whenever we would meet. I had to keep secrets. I did, and I even started keeping them from myself by erasing any traces  of things that happened in secret.

That was my own private battle. Much too complicated for me and certainly nothing I could ask anyone about. But then there was the social aspects of religion, church. I wanted to know God because I thought there would be some answers there, and I thought church would be the place to find it. I was mistaken.

The thing I saw was that everyone acted as if they were good, but they were not good. Christianity became a game. To be socially accepted, I did like every one else. I hid my sins, and pretended to be good. Some of my sins were not sins at all, but were just things I had felt guilty about. The hypocrisy of it all bothered me more than anything.  I also resented having to act like I was a good person when I knew I was not. I also resented having to pretend other people were good people when I knew they were not too.

I saw the human condition as one of weakness, sinfulness and despair. Yet religion's heavy hand was upon me. I wanted to know God, but God seemed so far away, so hard to understand. And in my dealings with most religious people, there was just pretending to be good. Now there were exceptions. There were some wise older women - older than me at least - who seemed to understand a little bit. They offered me hope.  A teaspoon of grace in a desert of sinfulness and guilt. It was a medicine I took eagerly, but they were the minority and often they were drowned out by the noise of religiousity.

I seemed miles - even worlds - away from the peace of the multicolored river of my youth. I could no longer see that place where i used to see God, and  could not feel his spirit within me anymore. I could barely even remember the river of rainbows. Were they just something I had imagined? Where was that feeling. Sunsets became just sunsets. I barely cared about the colorful mountains and fire in the sky anymore.

At some point I realized I would have to stop looking to others for answers. I was becoming an angry young man. They - those I had looked to as leaders - either did not know the answers or were refusing to tell me. I knew God. This was not what God was about, I knew, but even if I raised the question I got scolded or shunned. As my teen years began, I knew it was not God that was the problem. Religion just confused the issue - or at least the issues I cared about.

 Anger raged as the 1960s gave way to the 1970s. There was still some fear of the angry God who got mad if you sinned, but even that began to fade. People would say "God loves you." That only made it worse. What the hell did that mean? There were a lot of layers between me and God by then. And it would only get worse.

 There was a numbness that calloused over my heart as it sealed itself off from danger. Apart from anger at the frustration of not being able to find answers, there really wasn't much emotion.

 But it was there I found music. Dylan, Lennon and McCartney, even the Stones to some extent. There were others, but those were the ones that lasted in my mind.  They said the words I wanted to say. They had the feelings I wanted to feel. It almost seemed like they understood the things I felt. My anger was abated by their lyrics, their music. There was also the Allman Brothers Band. Their lyrics were not that much, but they had a sound that soothed my angered soul. The blues influence on 70s rock and roll became my savior.

In despair I was abandoning my search for God. Music at least consoled me. Still the emptiness was always just a step away. Late at night starring at the ceiling. Sometimes I would pray, but nothing ever got beyond the ceiling. God wasn't listening, and certainly wasn't talking.

I knew there was a hole in my soul that only God could fill, but where was God. How could I find God? Why would religion not reveal the secrets? Anger and depression began to rule. Music calmed me. If it were not for music I would not have survived. It was not the real answer, but it was a  life raft in a sea of bewilderment.

I started smoking in these years. The rush of nicotine seemed to fill me up and make me whole. I do remember one day thinking this was what I had needed. Thus began a lifelong addiction.  

My spiritual jouney: Descent to despair

The downward spiral began as the world unfolded in my pre-teen years. I wanted to know about God. God was the name I finally had for the rainbow river. The image of the multi-colored water was always in the front of my mind whenever we would go to church. I enjoyed the music and the stories in Sunday School. I thought I would find out more about the voice I had heard long ago, a voice that comforted me beyond anything I could understand.
But there was a dissonance that soon showed itself.
I felt the tug of church and religion, but when I went there, all I heard about was rules. Don't drink alcohol. Don't smoke. Don't cuss. The list went on, even things I had no idea what they were. Well I was a kid. I had never drank or smoked, but I had cussed some. I knew what that was. I tried not to cuss so God wouldn't be mad at me, and it was a long time before I would indulge in alcohol or tobacco.
There was a lot of talk of hell and burning forever. I didn't want that so I went forward and said the prayer, but nothing happened. Nothing changed.
It was all just so confusing. If you go forward in church and say a prayer you will be saved from hell. But then if you sin again, God will be mad at you and you will go to hell. So you had to go back down in front and get saved again.
The thing that bothered me most though, was that there was no emphasis on God. No talk about how to know God, how to learn about God. It was just rules.
Then to add to my confusion, after church, the men would gather and smoke on the front steps while the women did whatever it was they did before getting to the car to go home.
I still looked for the voice, but couldn't hear it. Even the mountains started to not look as glorious as they had looked before.
The rainbow river even began to fade from my consciousness.
Fear and despair became a cloud that pursued me. Fear of what I had no idea.
Even in the darkness though, a small light shined. Someday I would know what God was really like, or what the reality was. I knew the rules, but somehow I also just had a feeling this was not the real thing. God would make sense right?

My Spiritual Journey: Paradise tainted

Sitting on the front steps, cold cement and a breeze coming up the valley. Shivering, pulling my coat tighter.
Summer had faded and we were full swing into fall. I didn't like the end of summer, going back to school, or the weather turning cold. I was not over missing summer, but this was one pleasure that did not escape.
Just about every evening I would be out there on the steps watching the sunset. The mountains were alive with fall colors. That was cool enough, but then the sun would set. It was already below the horizon, and the light created a show that I wanted to see every day. The reds, oranges across the sky, against the backdrop of the mountains filled with fall color, took me back to the rainbow river. For just a moment there, I could feel that old feeling again. By now I recognized it as God. It never said anything, but I knew it was there. 
As night began to overcome the day, the mountains faded to blue and gray. As the stars started to appear,  
People around me, adults mostly, also appreciated the sunset. There was a dark side to this though. I thought they saw what I saw, and that they were enjoying what I was enjoying. 
But they said the things i said were cute. Or they just dismissed at childish imagination. Even worse, sometimes I would get scolded for saying things that were not “correct.” How the heck did I know what “correct” was? How was I supposed to know that? How did they know what was “correct?”
So I didn't talk about it anymore for a very long time.

My Spiritual Journey: Beginnings

I saw God in nature way before I ever saw anything in a book.

My introduction to God was great. A rainbow colored river flowing with warmth. It was undefined, just like the voice at the rainbow river, but I still felt it was that something that was out there – something that was not the same as myself or other people. It was good. But at the time I had no words for it. 

There were also images that seemed to communicate something to me.

There was a painting someone had done, and it was on display at the church. The painting was amazing, lots of colors. There was a river in the painting, and it had colors as well, so I imagined someone else had seen the same river I had seen. I didn't know how paintings came about, but I imagined it was the same river.

I looked at that painting every chance I got. And sometimes I would just stare at it in wonder. The sky in the painting was great too. It looked the way the real sky looked. I remember going outside in very cold weather, shivering and looking up at the night sky. This was rural Appalachia so there was not a lot of light noise. You could really see the sky.

As I looked up at the Milky Way, the vastness of the sky and all the stars, I felt that same thing I had felt at the rainbow river.

Another thing was the view near my house. The mountains were layered and you could see lots of hills. We were halfway up one mountain and you could see the valley and the layers of hills and mountains across the way. The mountains faded into the western sky, there was no end to them, they just faded away.

In the fall especially, the sun would set between two particular mountains. All the leaves were changing and the mountain was alive with orange, yellows and reds. The sunset also changed the sky to various shades of red, and combined with the visual of the mountains. There was also a blue shade of the mountains in the distant horizon as the sun set, as the reds in the sky faded.

The sunsets also gave me that good feeling. Those colors became my new rainbow river.

The only frustrating thing was, I couldn't talk to anyone about this. When I tried it wasn't understood or taken seriously. It could also be that I didn't know how to articulate it and also didn't know what I even wanted as a response.

Somewhere along the line I started hearing about God. Parents, adults in general, going to church and hearing the stories. I liked the stories. Noah and his ark. Father Abraham, and Jesus. Joseph and his coat of many colors. That always made me think of the river of rainbow.

God had created the world in seven days.

And I knew that it was the same one that had spoke to me at the rainbow river. So now I had a name for the voice, a name for the feeling.

I still knew nothing about this God, but I felt good whenever I thought about it, especially if any of those images were close by.

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My spiritual journey: In the beginning, God ...

There never was a time that I did not “know” God, or when I was not aware of something outside myself that was definitely there. Of course it was unseen, but it was a force, or a being of some kind. Still, it was as real as anything else.

I dont know how old I was when I first knew, but it was before I ever went to school. There was a dream. I was very young, and had only limited understanding. I still knew what the dream was about. It also repeated a few times, and maybe that is why I remember it so well.

I was beside a river and looking across. This was no ordinary river though. It flowed color, like a rainbow. The water of the river was streaked with vibrant colors. The colors remained separate, and they flowed together. I And looking across the water I could see other people or other beings. Somehow I knew those other beings were not of this world. They were “other.” I didn't know who they were but I just had the idea that they were not like me somehow. There was nothing fearful about them though.

The water was so beautiful and intriguing, that I went into it. I started walking across. 

But suddenly I was met by a voice, and I knew it was the voice of a greater being. It told me to turn around, and pointed to my mother who was standing on the shore. She was waiting for me to come back. She was happy that I had not continued.

So I went back in that direction. The voice was kind, strangely forceful, but at the same time seemed full of love. The voice was a power, and I felt it when it spoke to me. A peace and happy kind of feeling that seemed beyond understanding.

Later on I heard about God, Jesus and so forth, and it seemed to fit. I always thought back to that dream when I was in church.

Sometimes I would feel that same feeling I had felt when the voice told me to turn back from crossing the river. But I also learned that it was not something I could control, or make happen. It came when it wanted to come. But when it did come, I would feel very good. Most of the time it came in association with a religious event of some kind, though not always.

Even at an early age I began to associate God with that dream. God was the voice I had met in the river of the rainbow.

That is where my journey began.

It was a journey though, and it was years before I began to understand God. Tomorrow I will write about the frustration of not being able to know who the voice was.