A bitter aftertaste...

I don't like to write about religion much (at least, I don't think I do - I'm sure there are past posts to contradict this statement...but whatever). I actually don't like talking about it much. I'm not sure why...at least not entirely sure...but I may be starting to figure it out.

As a kid (...yeah, I know, here we go...bear with me, I'll make this part short), we did the church thing, and that was social. Go to church on Sundays, see Brother Bernie and our friends in Sunday School, and go hang out afterward with everyone. Small church, small congregation, sounds fine.

We moved on to a bigger church - big congregation, bigger youth group, so more activities, right? No. No social life, and thus not much joy in going except to go to "Big Church" and hear the sermon. I was saved at this particular church, but I'm going to move past that, because that's not my point here.

My mom married the guy who is now my Stepdad from this church, and something changed along the way at the church, and we switched again - to another small church, small congregation, but no social lives - with the exception of the people I knew from school there (i.e. Natalie & Sarah).

Things didn't start picking up in the Church aspect of my life until we found a church out in the country (after we moved there, and bounced around several other churches in town, and the neighboring towns and) after I was almost done with High School - and then it started to mean something. There was now a purpose for church - a spiritual purpose, spiritual hunger I suppose, that changed how I viewed life, and everything that I thought I knew in the Bible, believed about God, and gave an empowering nature to this Christian title we carried around - through the facet of prayer. Then the pastor accepted a job in Kansas City - and that was that.

We tried other churches, but they were just feeble attempts compared to what I was receiving at that other church.

Fast forward a couple months - I go off to college. I am then free to choose any church I want to, as long as I have a ride, or choose to walk to it. So I do, and find myself at times walking 55 minutes to get to a church on the other side of town. Dedication for hearing the sermons that I needed to hear.

Fast forward 1.5 years (3 semesters) and my parents pull me out of college, force me to attend a church I have no interest in attending (whose doctrine I share no common thread, but Jesus' existence), and hearing a message that is leaving his mouth and falling to the floor. I am essentially starved for any kind of spiritual food. These are the parents that forced me to read Revelation Ch 13 to prove that Power Rangers were Satanic (Beast out of the Sea, Beast out of the Earth...Green Ranger & Red Ranger, respectively)...the same parents that punished me by making me watch Creflo Dollar on TV (televangelist) because I was listening to Rock music...the same parents who watched John Hagee every Sunday afternoon at 3:00.

These same parents then scolded me for reading the book of Daniel from my bible during a sermon that I was receiving nothing out of...threatened to "squeal on me" (whatever that meant) if I even struck conversation with the youth minister...and refused to let anyone of us work (or go places to cause others to work) on Sunday - yet used the television and electricity as if no one had to work those.

Jump ahead 1 month from those episodes occurring, and I was being kicked out of the house - given the two options of: Army (which would likely destroy me physically) or my Dad's (which was touted to destroy me spiritually). I chose my Dad's...because I had already been destroyed spiritually.

Until recently, I had forgotten about the method of punishment my parents chose to use on us, which ingrained a negative perspective towards those things. It wasn't until I decided to continue transcribing The Blue Journal to the internet that it all started to make sense.

I had been brought to different churches and just so happened to find one I liked, but that had extraneous circumstances that changed it. Then I was allowed to find one that I liked while I was at college, but then forced to come home, and subsequently punished for/by/with religion.

I remember that during those sermons, after the Daniel incident, I would stare at the preacher and contemplate perpetual energy, the 1800s, hover technology for cars, or working on the-spot.net. I let knowledge take place of God - because God was being used as a form of punishment.

Punishment? I don't want any part of that...but thoughts - no one can punish me for thinking about hydrogen fusion and cold-air currents...not if I manage it all in my head.

I was kicked out, moved to my Dad's, and keep the habit of going to church on Sundays (to the one with Natalie and Sarah, who happened to still be there) because that was the only facet for making friends at the time. Over time that slowly dropped off, as a lot of things I knew from the college period of my life, that were so dependent on the church aspect, started to pass away...leaving less and less reason to continue on with those ties.

Ultimately, I moved out on my own again - but this time, I had little interest in finding a church closer to where I was that suited what I wanted. It was just as easy (and at times even more desirable) to stay home, and watch the Science channel all day...to be home in time for the Cowboys to play...to relax and enjoy the one day that I usually didn't do anything on (not in keeping with the ideal of a no-work-Sunday...but because I disconnected from the world that day to restore my social energy). Almost all things "Christian" had left a bitter aftertaste for me.

This explains why I have no dichotomy explaining how what I can believe in the Bible does not interfere with what I have learned in school. It explains how I have learned to pray (or not to pray) in accordance with the human decision making process that directs our life's journey. And it explains why I have such a red-colored, internal anguish for people that use cop-out religious phrases or twist the fact to support the cause.

It was all the crappy sermons I heard that preached feel-good sermons, about name-it-and-claim-it prayers, or that God made such-&-such and He shows us that He did because this or that is a certain way.

The sermons and teachings that I went after when I was left to my own devices taught me how to apply Jesus' teachings to the things going on in my life. I didn't need to hear about peace, love and joy - I already had those at the time. I didn't need to hear the Christmas Story or the Easter Story for the 20th time in as many years. I wanted to hear about how something Paul wrote in a letter to a church can be used in how I conduct myself at work...how I relate to people...how I am to function in a relationship.

Having found that at one point, and then get bludgeoned with it by those who showed it to me...

...what would you have done? (to be continued...with a solution)