What Good is the Bible?

So here I am about to spell out the vague and heretical views I have about the bible. I suppose it's come to this.

I don't really care for it; not much. Not anymore. 

However, it has been instrumental in my life, and I wouldn't change that for anything. 

Again, I'm mostly penning this for my own clarity, but I welcome any discussion it brings.

There is a great deal of hubbub around the interwebs today about the results of a recent Pew Forum study that concluded most agnostics and atheists know more about religion than most religious adherents. If you want to take the quiz, you can find it here...but beware their servers have been overloaded and it might take you awhile to get in. It is 15 questions about all major world religions. 

I asked on Facebook "If I scored 100% does that make me an atheist?" According to the study, it might. 

However, I am simply a religiously well-educated Christian. Comparative religion is a hobby of mine. Or, put another way, I have investigated several major religions in my process of deprogramming from Christianity. One day, when in the throes of the labor that would deliver me from evangelicalism, I asked myself, "Well, I obviously am no longer a Christian, but I know I'm spiritual, so what am I?" That was back when I still believed Christianity was a box one either fit into, or didn't. And I didn't. 

As an aside, there is no box. I'm an atheist of the Christian box. 

Or, kind of like this. 

I'm no longer convinced that we know who wrote many of the texts that now exist as the canon of the bible. More importantly, I'm no longer convinced we know when they were written. The when is of utmost importance to the New Testament; for were the books written by eye witnesses? If so, were they written decades after the fact? If not, it would explain why some scholars say the first books of the NT were written around 100 AD -- surely not by any eyewitness. The average life expectancy at that time was around 40 years. 

A great quote to that effect:

"Several thousand years ago, a small tribe of ignorant near-savages wrote various collections of myths, wild tales, lies, and gibberish. Over the centuries, these stories were embroidered, garbled, mutilated, and torn into small pieces that were then repeatedly shuffled. Finally, this material was badly translated into several languages successively. The resultant text, creationists feel, is the best guide to this complex and technical subject." – Tom Weller, Science Made Stupid, 1985

We don't really know how true any part of the bible is. Of course the more fundamental parts, for a Christian,  have to do with the life of Jesus. Did he really perform miracles? Was he really virgin born? Was he really resurrected? 

The fundamental reason why Christians are usually expected to believe the bible as 100% literally true has to do with the question that once we begin unraveling it, where do we stop? In the end we are left with, "Did Jesus ever really exist? If he did, why does he even matter at all unless, he really was the son of God, miracle-worker, savior the bible says he is?" If we cease to believe in the literalism of the bible, why should we even care who Jesus was? 

I read a book recently that had me thinking. It was by Bishop John Shelby Spong, called 'Jesus for the Non-Religious'. It was a fascinating read, and I was enthralled. However, Bishop Spong attempts to remove all miraculous occurrences from the life of Jesus. He works to give plausible, scientific explanations for every miracle. And it would work for me, too, if I wasn't left with one big question at the end.

"If there were no miracles surrounding the life of Jesus, then why the heck should I care who he was or if he even ever lived?" Sure, maybe he was an insightful prophet, but why should I care?

The reason for me, the reason I don't throw the proverbial baby out with the bathwater, the reason I still follow the baby, albeit a different baby, is this:

The words and actions attributed to him speak to my soul. He is recorded as having been a huge religious revolutionary in his time; a revolution that should still impact the way we operate today. The years I spent learning who this man is proclaimed to have been (even if he actually wasn't), have impacted the way I relate to myself, others, and the world at large. When I realized that Jesus' primary message was (or is recorded to have been) that any religious observance, philosophy, theology or doctrine that doesn't stir us toward more love for one another, it is worthless...well, count me in. 

Basically, unlike any other religion that I have learned about, the primary religious figure of Christianity brought a message that was revolutionary against not only the religion of the day, but against the religion that he is actually attributed to have founded. In other words, if the message that Christianity holds so dear, "love one another", was actually followed the way Jesus intended, they would put themselves out of business. Their main prophet would be against what Christianity has become. 

That's cool. Because they so actively, so vehemently, guard the same prophet that would dismantle them if he was given a chance. That's revolutionary. Crazy, just the way I like it.

However, is that of value to everyone? Of course not, and I completely understand why not. Our simple human sensibilities, when wielded properly, should automatically lead us to kindness, generosity, grace, and love, without all the religious nonsense mixed in. However, personally, I love the revolutionary -- what he stood for, what he represents, all the table-turning, anti-authority, defiant parts of him. He came here and told the religious establishment of the day that they were "doing it wrong". And if he came here today he'd say the same damned thing. 

And really, I'm not sure that Jesus, if he did exist, would have a problem with many atheists -- I think they get the point more than any of us. Religion has no value; only kindness has value. Oh yes, you can have kindness without religion, but you cannot have religion without kindness. In other words, we're doing it wrong.

My biggest problem with much of Christendom's insistence that we must believe the bible is true and/or infallible, and/or inspired, and/or literal is simple...their argument is that if we DON'T believe those things (or whatever combination of those things we are being instructed to believe) that we will most certainly fall down a slippery slope into utter atheism. Because, well, if we don't believe God's words from the bible, then we are lost. 

I'm living proof that they lie. I believe we can deconstruct everything that is sacred, and still be left with something sacred to cling to. I believe we can actually follow Jesus without being a Christian. I believe I can follow Jesus and even be an atheist, if I wanted to. (Why I still believe "God" exists is another post.)

So I don't really care about the bible. I don't really read it, I don't really care if it's true, or literal, or perfect. 

But I can't deny that it has outlined for me the person who is the best example of humanity I have ever heard of. Even if he never lived, which I believe he did, but even if he didn't...maybe he was invented as a hopeful ideal of how good a person could actually be if they truly made love their first priority. 

I want to be like him, as much as my selfish little ego is able. 

Grandstanding?

Sometimes I wish I didn't think the things I do, because those things sometimes get me into trouble. Like what I'm about to say here. :)

Whenever I read about some church- or faith- based organization that is deep in the throes of community service in an effort to be "missional" - feeding the hungry, helping homeless families, or advocating for children - the first thing I do is visit the website of the organization. Now, that in and of itself probably isn't that strange. In today's technologically advanced society, the first thing many people do when hearing about something new is to visit the website of the new thing. It's a great way to get information, find out locations and times, or find contact information.

However, those aren't the reasons I do it.

I do it to look for ONE thing:

Are there any WOMEN on their pastoral staff, leadership board or as deacons or elders?

Because in my somewhat heretical mind, I struggle not to see the group as hypocritical, regardless of what kinds of good they do in society, if there are no women seen in a distinct leadership role. If they marginalize half the population, I see their good works as something less than missional if they can't be that in their own midst.

Now, whatever good they are doing is good. There is no doubt about that in my mind. However, looking deeper at the belief system of the group is something I cannot avoid. How is it that a group can see their goal as being outreach to the marginalized of our society (meaning impoverished, hungry, abused, homeless) if they cannot see that the largest minority population in the world is being treated unequally right there in their own organization.

I don't know if it is only my twisted mind that sees this...but it equates to me the same as a church that spends thousands of dollars sending mission groups to third-world countries, yet ignores the hungry who belong to their group or live in their community. It seems entirely like grandstanding to me. 'Look at us, look how great we are for the good things we do; don't mind the man behind the curtain, he means nothing.'

On another level, but something that is far more difficult to see evidence of by looking at a website, many of these same organizations who are serving meals to the homeless have members of their church whose children are eating nothing but ramen noodles, or who are on the brink of homelessness, or who are abused in their own home. For a church not to be caring for it's own before it cares for the world, well, that's a shame.

Sigh, I don't know. It's just broken.

What's Wrong with Religion?

The religious system is broken. It's not my fault, and you can't fault me for leaving it. It's not a little bit broken, and it's not due to just a few "bad apples". It's deep-down-all-the-way-to-the-bone-broken. 

We have a Pope that not only fails to resolve terrifying reports of child molestation in his church -- he also thinks that ordaining women to the priesthood is as evil as child molestation, he believes atheists are similar to Nazis, and he doesn't believe we should use condoms to prevent the spread of AIDS because they are a form of contraception, and contraception is a sin. 

We have megachurch pastors who earn 2-4 times as much as the average american.

We have dozens of pastors who have fallen into illicit sex or drug use, primarily due to the pressures of modern evangelical Christian leadership. 

We have a system that looks so completely unlike anything Jesus ever intended (read the New Testament) that it is entirely self-serving, self-supporting, and self-righteous. Unloving, unpeaceful, and ungracious.

I could go on, but I won't. 

Sigh. Is it really that difficult to understand why some of us want nothing to do with the church anymore?

Puppies and Other Joys

My mom's dog, Ruby, had puppies three weeks ago. Ruby is an English Springer Spaniel, and she is beautiful; show quality and from champion lines. The puppies' father is also a champion, and they were bred on purpose. 

Ruby had eight puppies - but we are refraining from calling her "Octomom". They are the most beautiful, most precious things I can imagine, other than a human baby, of course. 

I have had the unique privilege of spending a great deal of time with them, and I hope to be able to bring one home with me in about five weeks. That is still debatable, as things are right now, the expense of owning a new puppy is something we might not be able to manage. We'll see. 

These are house-puppies, that is, they were not born, nor are they being raised, in a kennel. They are securely housed in my parents' kitchen. These pups are being held a lot, as there is no shortage of hands to cuddle them. My parents have had as many as 15 visitors in a single day, and have had some visitors every day. My boys have played a huge role in the endeavor to hold them all every day. 

They are special in the way they are being loved on and cared for, and by the way their mother is loved. 

This has been a healing, energizing experience for me. This summer has been difficult and I have dealt with overwhelming anxiety like never before. In fact, anxiety has never been a problem for me until now. I have lost sleep, I have been angry and stressed, even to the point of not being able to be a good host to guests. 

I have had to make the difficult decision not to return to school this year. The timing isn't right. It was hard because the program I was to start this fall is restricted entry and I had been one of 32 applicants selected from a pool of over 100. I did not want to give that up, but it just wasn't going to happen this year. Our finances are in a jumble due to some changes in our income, and I need to be helping out with that rather than adding to our debt. 

However, I have no college degree, and I haven't worked in over 14 years. I have lots of skills, none verifiable. I can't even tell a prospective employer how to contact my last supervisor, as she is not at that job anymore. In this job market, I'm hard pressed not to be tossed into the trash can, much less actually be interviewed or receive a job offer. 

All that said, there is nothing more soothing to the soul (OK that's a dramatization, because there are many things soothing to the soul, but this is a big one for me) than squirming, squeaking puppies. 

I've watched them begin to scoot/walk on wobbly legs. I've watched their eyes peek open. I've watched them learn to bark, growl and wag their tails. All in three weeks. Over the next five weeks we will watch them learn to play, learn to relieve themselves in the grass, learn to eat kibble. We will see their personalities emerge and develop, see them begin to reveal shadows of the adult dogs they will become.

All in eight weeks. 

And I thought watching my kids grow up went by fast!

Then, we will see most of them go off to relatively unknown homes. My mom is keeping one. Ruby's co-owner will be keeping one, and hopefully I'll keep one. The other five will wander away with carefully screened owners. Hopefully they will go to homes where they will be loved and nurtured and live to a ripe old age. Hopefully we will have a chance to see most of them from time to time, although probably a couple of them will move a state or two away.

This is a good lesson for me in parenting, in letting go, in releasing my grip on my own children as they test the boundaries of their freedom and look toward a future where mom and dad are no longer the center of the universe. 

Strange Things are Afoot

If you use a feed reader to view my posts, you would not know that I'm doing some deconstructing on the blog.

In a few days, I will celebrate my fifth anniversary here at Decompressing Faith. I decided five years is about the maximum extent of the life of a blog -- or at least a blog name. A change was in order. 

When I began here, my life, my existence, was consumed by sorting out this thing called faith. This blog and friends have brought me endless comfort, clarity and hope through that process. I have found many answers and added many more questions to my list. However, I feel peace with where I have landed, at least for now. (I know I have never finished that series outlining where I have landed...I will get to it.)

However, I find that my focus has shifted away from endlessly rehashing the same issues, the same questions and conflicts. I need breathing room; space to expand my horizons and spread my wings. There is no reason why I can't continue to do that at a blog called "Decompressing Faith", but it doesn't really identify where I am today. Since I no longer see myself as "Decompressing my Faith"...I needed a new name. 

The name I have chosen is one that I have had as the name of a secondary blog I thought I would begin several years ago - but never did. 

"Mapless". 

The byline will probably change from time to time, but for the moment it is "Trying Not to Stomp the Flowers". I have no idea where that came from...I didn't think it up, it just flew out of my fingers while typing last night, and I liked it. 

The header/colors and other changes are a work in progress and will take time. So please forgive me if things shift around here as I try to bring things into focus. 

My blog address will remain erinword.com as usual. I ask the forgiveness of those who have linked to me at "Decompressing Faith" over the years; those links will still work, but when people arrive here they might think they have come to the wrong place. This is why there will be a page dedicated to this explanation. 

Thanks for being patient with me.

They Grow Up at the Speed of Light

In case you hadn't heard, kids grow up way too fast.

In the early years, when we can't wait for them to wipe their own bottoms or put themselves to bed, we all heard someone say "Oh, but they grow up so fast". 

Indeed. 

Soon, they won't need you for much more than money and clean undies. Soon, they will ask forgiveness more than they ask permission. Soon, they will become as independent as Ralph Nader.

As well they should. If they don't, we haven't done our jobs properly.

Still, as much the parents I know who have small children can't wait for a little more independence, there are also parents whose children are older than mine who shake their heads at me and think "You ain't seen nothin' yet". Soon, they will want cars and have girlfriends and move out, only to move back in when they grow tired of eating Ramen. 

Fortunately my kids still give hugs and one of them still likes to be "tucked in" at bedtime. Years ago, I couldn't wait for the bedtime routine to be over. I relish those moments these days, and mourn the countdown to their demise.

However, the benefits of having older children are numerous: 

Teenagers can do REAL chores, like lawn-mowing and dish-washing. 

The parents' desire to leave the house no longer requires diaper bags, strollers, car seats and screaming children - or seeking out that ever-elusive babysitter.

Teenagers no longer need a plethora of daily reminders: brush your hair, brush your teeth, put on clean socks, do your homework, don't wipe boogers on the wall. 

Still, I have spent the better part of this last week sorting through an attic filled with baby-toddler-preschooler-up-through-3rd-grade things, making decisions about what to keep and what to sell or give to Goodwill. Oh, what a melancholy life I lead. I would be lying if I said I haven't cried a little for the tension between baby bottle and high-schooler. But as there will be no more babies in this house (a sad fact in it's own right - I have been doing the baby-child thing for so long, I don't remember what else I'm good for!), keeping every last sippy cup or onesie seems lunatic.

The tension, and the downside, of having older children is evidenced by the fact that I had a heart to heart with my now high-school age son the other day. As a parent, there are some things that must be addressed before high school begins. Yes, we covered the basics: pay attention in class, don't lose your locker combination, walk away from arguments. But there are some more difficult subjects that cannot be ignored.

One: Don't ever ever ever drive after drinking (or otherwise partaking of mind-altering substances). Don't ever ever ever get in the car with a driver who has been drinking. Call me. I will pick you up. I will call a cab. I will tell you to stay put until morning. Anything other than taking that risk. 

Lesson from Mom: As a young idiot, I drove intoxicated on a handful of occasions. My parents always insisted that I come home - even when I'd been drinking. So, while driving I would pray without ceasing, "Please God, don't let me kill anyone!". If anything should make me believe in God, that would be it - because thankfully I never killed anyone. But I would scour the newspapers for several days after each instance for news about accidents at the times and locations where I would have been driving...wondering if I HAD killed someone and just had not realized it.

Kids who live another day to face their parents' wrath are far more desirable than kids who make curfew by risking death - theirs or someone else's. Never will I put my kids in that position.

Two: Always use a condom. This is met with rolling eyes and "Mo-om!" I tell him I hope that he will wait until he's in a mature and loving relationship. However, as the alternative, always use a condom. I don't care if she's on the pill, I don't care if it's uncomfortable, I don't care about any excuse. I am 40 years old and I know a few things. ALWAYS, every time, until the day you are prepared to become a parent of a child that YOU will have to tell to always use a condom.

Lesson from Mom: I also learned from experience that there are repercussions of the failure to use a condom, besides just babies. The repercussions are such that a woman might never have be able to have babies, even when she wants to....or if she does, she may struggle to have healthy pregnancies. I thank God every day that I was able to successfully give birth to two relatively healthy children. The odds weren't good, thanks to my idiotic behavior when I was young. 

Some of you reading might wonder why I don't exclusively teach my children abstinence - from alcohol, drugs, sex, whatnot. Well, I'm decidedly NOT an idiot. Yes, I have hopes that they will make wise choices. However, what is good in theory is often not the reality. As parents, we have to prepare for that, and we have to prepare our teenagers for that. Maybe it's unfortunate, but it's not as unfortunate as ignorance. I wish my parents had been more proactive in this area, it would have saved me some grief; but I was the first and oldest child, and they did the best they could.

As well, I understand the pitfalls of trying to be my teenagers' "friend". That is not what I'm advocating. Only that we be honest with them about the realities of growing up, the situations they might face, and what we have learned from our own mistakes. They may not listen, but it must be said.

While sorting through infant clothes and Blues Clues toys, I found myself crying...both for the loss of the days where the most complicated thing about my children was that they wanted hot dogs in their mac-n-cheese...and grateful for the growing independence that is developing my children into the adults they will one day become.

I can only hope I've done a decent job.

Why I Do This Craziness

For many people, the relays that are Hood to Coast and Portland to Coast are an eternal mystery. You may wonder why on earth tens of thousands of people would put themselves through that kind of abuse. Well, I'll tell you.

Because it's AWESOME! Seriously! It is by far the most fun I have ever had...my year practically revolves around it.

This was my third year participating, and second year captaining a team. It says something by itself that I have been involved for three years, with no plans to stop. What is it, you ask? It's a 127 mile walking relay. We have a 12 person team, each person walks a leg in rotation, two rotations. Totals range from just over 7 miles up to just over 13 miles. It's not much until you factor in the intense sleep deprivation and the fast paced nature of the event. 

This is a massive event. There are 400 walking teams and 1000 running teams (the running teams do three rotations each and total 197 miles). There are also 50 high school teams. Each team provides three volunteers. This brings the total to well over 15, 000 people involved. It is the largest relay event in the entire world. There were teams from every state in the US and 23 foreign countries. People come from New Zealand, Asia and Europe to participate. 

We are very much a "come as you are team", meaning we welcome anyone who wants to do it. I love that about our team, and our unofficial motto is "you're only competing against yourself". Yes, we're not contenders, but we actually kicked our own butts this year and beat our predicted time by 1:20 (that's one hour, twenty minutes). We were amazed! 

So, why, you might ask? Because it's FUN! OK, so it's not everyone's idea of fun, but seeing as how there are so many participants, there must be a lot of people who agree with me!

We started at 3:00 AM this year. We finished in just over 30 hours. We aren't the fastest team on the block, but we're not the slowest, either. We fall just about in the middle of our division. 

The walking is only part of the fun. W e do train for six months (some of us longer) working to improve our times and endurance. But the athletic aspect is not the real reason we do this. We do it because of the relationships.

Which is what makes the world go 'round, really.

This is the second year together for most of us, and the third year together for four of us. The friendships, the fun, the goofiness, the community, the hilarity, the pain, the gastrointestinal upset, the sweat...it's all shared among friends. We are cooped up with the same people for over 24 hours, without a break, we work our asses off, we suffer together....and in the end we love each other more and have stronger relationships because of it. I like to call it a party on wheels. Yes, sometimes we end up yelling at each other, because there is little sleep to be had. But it's all water under the bridge in the end, when our last walker crosses the finish line. 

Sleep deprivation is a major factor, but it's also one of the things that lends itself so readily to the amazing sense of personal accomplishment in the end. Thursday night I slept two hours. Friday afternoon I slept two hours. Friday night I slept three hours. This is why it's so challenging. The distance isn't that hard...it's doing the distance as fast as you can, twice, on almost no sleep.

And many of you think we're entirely loco. That's good for me, because the race fills up every year as it is...we don't need any more teams! 

Captaining a team is it's own rewarding/frustrating combination. Organizing the team, the planning, the supplies, the volunteers, the vans and the lodging are all hardcore, especially in August. Problem solving keeps me awake at night. However, there is nothing like seeing the first teammate cross the start and feeling the electric excitement in the air. There is NOTHING like seeing the team cross the finish together and knowing my role in making this a successful and memorable experience for so many people. One of our two new teammates this year said it was one of the best weekends of her entire life (and she's about as much of a "spring chicken" as I am, so that's saying a lot)!!!

So now, on to planning for 2011...I get about a month off and we will have our first meeting the first week of October.

I CAN'T WAIT to do it all again!