Faith
I find people’s faith journeys fascinating. I owe my spirituality today to my parents introducing me to Sunday School and church at an early age. This was first through the Lutheran baptism tradition in which as an infant, I remember nothing of the event, other than the pictures that prove I was there and I was sprinkled! I was also confirmed, Missouri Synod Lutheran, and I spend the first 25 years of my life as a Lutheran. Then I dissented and went rogue Methodist for 30 years (to Missouri Synod Lutheran’s back then, Methodists were rogue!).
In my 40s I ventured out again on my faith journey and I found Unity Church. Unity was founded in 1889 and is headquartered in Kansas City, Missouri. I was introduced to Unity by my twin’s then, young, hip, babysitter, Julie. She will always be young and hip in my eyes, and I can never thank her enough for the introduction. The main tenant of Unity’s beliefs is that the Creator is a loving entity who loves everyone and lives in all of us, rather than a vengeful God–believe or you will be damned! Even as a grade schooler, I never bought the Lutheran doctrine presented to me. No disrespect, the doctrine just never spoke to me. I kid that Unity is my God loves everyone, hug a tree, hippy church, which fits my faith perfectly right now, and no I am not a previous hippy; I was born after 1955.
As I stated at the start of this section, I find our faith journeys fascinating. My best friend grew up in the Catholic faith. While she has always had a deep faith, when she and her husband were raising children, they did not attend church, nor did they take their children to Sunday school. But, as the children became teenagers, they began questioning their world and they each found faith on their own. So if children are not introduced to a faith tradition, what is it inside of us that makes us wonder and investigate faith later in our lives?
On the other end of the faith scale, in my 40s I had a work colleague who stated she was an atheist. We had a couple of interesting conversations about God or lack thereof. She contended quite emphatically that there was no Creator; religions were all-man made. As she had a child, I ask her about her pregnancy and the child’s birth and did those experiences not convince her that there was something greater than all of us in charge? She responded no, her child’s birth, although amazing, did not change her belief. She would be in her 60s now and I have always wondered if she is still an atheist?
In the middle of the faith scale, is another friend of mine. He was brought up by parents who attended a strict, conservative church. I don’t remember the denomination and it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the experience was so repressive for him, that once he was out of the house he quit the church and never attended except for weddings and funerals. But, my friend’a faith is strong. You don not have to have your butt in a pew on Sunday mornings to have faith.
Funerals
I guess it is weirdly appropriate that that funeral follows faith alphabetically? It did not happen at 50, but now that I am in my 60s, friends and family of mine are starting to leave this earth in significant numbers. There was a good family friend (heart attack), a good writer, friend (old age), a sorority sister (brain cancer), a cousin (health complications), and my Dad (aneurism). Monthly it seems, I am attending funerals like I used to go to the movie theatre and death is damn sad. A person who people loved has passed on, before the people in his/her life were ready to let them go. For me it is important to show up, pay my respects, and give their mourning, loved ones a big hug and condolences. I do this because I feel it is the right thing to do and I believe in karma. I want my children to be comforted in their time of sorrow. I attend the funeral and give those mourning big hugs and condolences. When we hug, love is released, and so it goes…..
Suicide
Over the years, I have known two people who ended their lives. The first was a friend of mine’s wife with terminal cancer and the physical pain became too great. The most recent was a fellow female sailor, only 46, with kids and grandkids, and a history of depression. The mental pain became too great. With kids and grandkids, one has to be terribly, terribly, hurting mentally to leave the living. This death made me think of my own mother and her battles as a manic-depressive. Although we now know that my mother was close to utter despair more than once in her life, she never checked out. She let heart failure later in life do that for her. I believe that my sailing friend is in a better place now, and her hurt is gone. Still, for me, mourning someone leaving life by his/her own accord, takes me longer to mourn than if it were by age or disease. Do I believe people who take their own lives go to hell as a number of religions’ dogmas espouse? Hell no. People who take their lives are welcomed into the next realm, the same as all of us.