I’m not sure exactly when I began to feel uncomfortable with the idea of church, but at some point in my twenties, I began to see the hypocracy in the money that went into beautiful places of worship that were not welcoming to all. Admittedly, this phenomenon was uncommon, but it was enough to drive my contemplation of faith and religion.
Some of the most beautiful things humans have created have been places of worship – think of cathedrals, temples, synagogues, mosques, and the art they contain. I think of the creation of these as acts of love, and acts of faith. Contemplating these places and these works, in silence, is more meaningful to me than attending weekly services every was. At the same time, some of the most heinous things people have done to each other have been associated with religion, for example the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, the residential schools in Canada, the abuse by and coverup of abuse by Catholic Priests. These were not acts of love, they were acts of power, and I still wonder if the upper echelons of the involved religious organizations have done enough to make reparations for the crimes committed in the past.
I have loved the Chronicles of Narnia for most of my life, and The Last Battle is one of my favourites. In particular, there is a scene near the end where Aslan, who is thought by many scholars to be an allegory for Jesus, says to a man who worshipped a different deity, “For I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him” (p. 517, The Complete Chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis, 1998, HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.). To paraphrase, if you do good, it doesn’t matter whose name it is in. This is the kind of living I believe in. I’m no theologian, but I try to be a good person, not because the Bible tells me to and not because it is the only way to get into heaven, but because it is the right thing to do. The ritual of sitting in church once a week is meaningless to me if it is not met with acts of kindness, compassion, and love in every other moment of the week.
In his appearance on Brené Brown’s Unlocking Us podcast, Bishop Michael Curry tells the story of his father attending an Episcopalian service with his mother. The people were predominantly white, but there was no question about sharing communion with black people. Bishop Curry quotes his father as saying, “Any church where Blacks and Whites drink from the same cup knows something about the gospel of Jesus, that I want to be a part of.” I know there are a lot of congregations that do focus on kindness, love and compassion as the most important teachings. I understand how strongly the absence of fellowship is for so many people during this pandemic. I may not be ready to become a regular church-goer any time soon, but I recognize it’s importance to other people.