Continuing onwards with this Lent of re-discovering self: sometimes you feel like a nut...and then sometimes you feel like a nut who's entirely out of place...
I have to admit, there are times I feel like this in my life, particularly in relation to faith.
For those who don't know, I grew up in the Baptist tradition. Like, REALLLLLLY Baptist tradition. It's always ironic when I try to relate my heritage to folks, especially the ones who say "Oh! I went to a Southern Baptist church for a while!" Oh no, my friends, my branch of Baptist thought our Southern cousins were left-wing heretics. That probably should tell you a little bit about the severity of my religious upbringing.
Hellfire and brimstone? Check. Judgements upon the way people dressed? Check. Denouncement of all things sexually "icky?" Check. Aaaaannnnd the list could certainly go onwards for quite some time.
Suffice it to say, it's probably one of those great mysteries of the cosmos how I turned out to have the points of view that I do. Moreover, I'm probably not ever going to be on the Christmas card list for a number of the folks who were my early-guiding-lights in the church. In fact, my last interaction with the senior pastor from my youth was his letting me know that "my baptism clearly had not taken affect" when he had performed it years ago. Awkward...
I think it's fair to say in addition to being pretty amazed that I'm where I am now, I am also grateful to be out of that world. Well, at least, usually...
While the instances are small, there are times that I miss some things from that past fundamentalist world.
I miss....
*the certainty. The certainty that YOU had the answer, it never mattered the question, because you could sort anything. I mean, all of this certainty often came at the expense of historic analysis, cognitive sciences, social theory and examination, etc. Still, there's an insane amount of power and calm in the thought that "I've got this figured out. I know who God is. I know what I'm supposed to do."
*the cohesiveness. Obviously, fundamentalist groups are notoriously myopic. Even more obviously, I find that to be hella' problematic. All the same, there's something incredibly reassuring about being around "your" people. People who look, sound, act, and believe just like you. It can, at times, be a bit Stepford-esque, but it's also -at times- reassuring.
*the inclusion. Okay, this one sounds a bit odd, but hear me out: if you are/were part of the included group in the world of my childhood faith, you were incredibly warmly welcomed. Mind you, if you weren't in that accepted and included group, it was a bit like being in a social Siberia. Nonetheless, there was an inclusion -for the select...or elect as it might have been- that is hard to replicate elsewhere.
There are other things too. When you grow up in a culture or community, it's hard to step away from it. There are many Sunday mornings, where I miss worshiping in the Baptist style. (Though I DO love my little liturgical community.) And there are more than a few times where I get on a roll and wonder what would happen if I cut loose in a proper Baptist-esque sermon? (The answer is that Adam would be meeting with the Pastoral-Relations Committee very soon...)
Mind you, I don't miss these things that often and usually when I do miss them, I'm quick to remember why I don't partake in that tradition anymore. The judgement? You can keep it. The lack of care for the least? Stuff it. The "boxing-in" of God, who God is, how God works? Jog on.
But still...there are days...
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