If you, right now, in this moment of global panic, are feeling alone, stop. We have been here before. Not you and I specifically, but all of us as a human race. As precious and special and worthy of self-care as you are, you are not the first to experience a pandemic, let alone a global-sized threat.
I have been thinking of my ancestors, especially the strong women just three or more
generations ago, who birthed children in their homes without epidurals and fed a family of 12 without a microwave or refrigeration. Some days my arms get tired just rolling out my yoga mat, and I’ve wondered “how did they do it?” I mean both the day-to-day AND the global pandemics, World Wars, and an Industrial Revolution all while the whole world was one giant mystery because science was in its infancy.
But I already know how they did it. They had faith. My grandmothers especially, and who do you think they learned it from? The women who came before. Because despite all of the terrible things humans have collectively brought to our religions and done to each other over them, they stick around because they are a comfort to so many.
Many of us today don’t think this comfort is available. I know my friends in politically progressive circles will go out of their way to be inclusive to folks from minority religions, but would feel like a total hypocrite believing in their own family’s Christian faith tradition. Why is that?
In the late 1970s in America a whole bunch of assholes walked into the public square and declared themselves the authority on Christianity. That they did such a thing was antithetical to the very message embedded within the religion itself, but what’s worse is they were fueled not by a misplaced desire to aggressively spread God’s word to others, but out of a need to silence those who they perceived as threats due to their differences of identity and opinion. They had no name for themselves because they didn’t come from established denominations where structures of authority can keep out the crazies. So we gave them names. Evangelicals. Fundamentalists. The Christian Right. They preach a gospel of prosperity to their members, telling poor people they’ll get rich if they just listen and obey hard enough. They tell rich people they are favored by God and anyone trapped by our shitty economic system is there by their own fault.
In the political sphere they define themselves by who they hate; the impoverished, queer folks, refugees, women who make all sorts of personal choices of which they don’t approve, and any racial or religious minority whose very existence brings their hypocrisy to light.
So I get it. Nobody wants to get in on that.
It’s even worse if you have experienced personal or familial pain at the hands of someone who wielded their Christian faith like a weapon.
But I bet sometimes, in those moments of desperation or exasperation, you find yourself talking to God. You might scold yourself, and wonder if you’re going off the deep end because “OMG, did I just pray?” You probably have been spoked by this happening lately,in this global time of panic and grief, when you’re confused by the duality of being scared shitless but also loving the time to spend connecting with people in newer and deeper ways. After all this is how humans come to religions; with fear and great joy.
I tell you now that it’s okay. It’s okay to both feel this way—to be weary of any acknowledgement of God and yet hungry for the comfort you know a little faith can provide.
I tell you now to say “fuck it,” forget everything you’ve ever heard about God from others and speak to God yourself. Use those mindful meditation tricks inspirational memes have taught you and manifest the shit out of a prayer.
Because why let some assholes keep you from God? Sure, they say they’re the authority, and they’ve narrowed the definition of “Christian” to a noxious idea, but their scheme is the oldest one in the book.
If this were a class and I asked if anyone could tell me about a time in human history when a group of people claimed themselves the arbiters of religion and that they, and they alone, could grant you access to God, every hand in the room would go up and they could all signal different answers. You can’t let that obnoxious #blessed neighbor with the caked make-up, or your uncle with his racist Facebook posts, or that Jabba the Hut cosplayer in the White House keep you from God. Don’t let them win.
When the angel (or perhaps angels, who knows because the books of the Bible are as contradictory and imperfect as we are) appeared to Mary Magdalene in the empty tomb and told her the good news that Jesus of Nazareth was risen and now Jesus the Christ as had been foretold, he said “Go, and tell the others.”
We all know that sentence didn’t end “Go, and tell the others that corporations are people my friend.” Nor did he say “Go, and tell the others to make concentration camps on your border because Lord forbid we have more brown kids running around our country trying to live their lives.” He didn’t say “Go, and tell the other that ALL lives matter.” And he sure as hell didn’t say “Go, and tell the others that anyone with an interesting sex life should feel as if they are vile.” A great source of love and comfort, and a vehicle to do real good in this world, has been stolen from us modern, empathic, do-gooders in America by people who claim their evil is righteous. They berate you with cherry-picked scripture, and I get that it feels like you’re supposed to cede authority on this topic to them.
But they are wrong. And there are theological arguments to make against them, mainly because they love misinterpreting the Original Testament. But they also claim to be Christians, and Christians acknowledge the Original Testament is the Law and Jesus gave us the Gospels to free us from the Law. But you don’t need to get into all of that just now. All you need to start is the simple understanding that none of that is God’s deal. Its our mess. The result of this big, beautiful, confusing, and dangerous world God created but does not Lord over like some reality TV show host. God’s power isn’t that he doles out cash prizes or roses or pain and suffering like some Goodle ad algorithm.
God’s power is that God is there with each and every one of us at all times. Not like some creep lurking around, but a partner baring witness in our most self-destructive and vulnerable moments, or reveling in our joy and ecstasy. God sees everything and yet remains with us. The personification of unconditional love.
You don’t need to make some declaration about believing this. You don’t need to stop your bad habits or even pretend you’ve stopped them. You don’t have to talk about it with anyone, or say it out loud. Faith isn’t something you do. It’s something you have.
Through faith you will be saved by God’s grace. Saved from your own worry and doubt. Saved from the kind of self-loathing and regret that keeps you up some nights, or sneaks in to pleasant moments and ruins them. God has bigger things to worry about. Believe that and you’ll take one big breath without all those tiny weights on your chest. And what is life if not leaps of faith with the ones we love?