Midnight Confessions From A Goodwill Couch

The groove in my mojo has taken a hiatus. I'm not sad; surprisingly I'm reasonably happy. My children and wife seem to enjoy life as we know it, but I'm left with this awkward hollowness. I'm not sure if feeling neutral is a good thing or bad thing? I don't want letters of concern or how God's got a plan for my life. I'm neither depressed nor suicidal, I just am. These types of seasons fade in and out in everyone's life. They're the ebb and flow that allow rest then rejuvenation. The older I get the more apt I am to "bend like the willow" as my Philippine friend always suggested. I joke now that the more out of shape I get the more diplomatic I become. It's that way in the spiritual realm as well. I sort of hit a plateau and there isn't a system, belief, or fundamental practice I haven't considered. I'm tired of debates and arguments and wonder if my pursuit of knowledge within religions hasn't jaded me somehow.

This morning I filled out a useless survey to break the monotony of a slow business day. One of the questions asked addressed any concerns and I responded "my faith." I have taken it easy on myself in the arena of beliefs even though I'm under constant barrage of other's beliefs aimed in my direction. Out of all my endeavors I tried desperately to practice Christianity with mixed results. I was evangelized that I needed Jesus in order to avoid damnation, so I bought the fire insurance. I have witnessed the Divine Comedy of evangelists who shout dramatically rehearsed prophetic proclamations that never come to fruition. The fail safe go to response of most evangelists when the blessings fail to flow is, "It must be your lack of faith or unresolved sin in your life." It's sort of like being a weatherman; you can be wrong the majority of the time and still not be held accountable. I wish I could be wrong as often and still get a love offering. Ironically in biblical times they stoned prophets when events didn't come to pass as forecasted. I have also seen the faith of a child that can silence the most hardened skeptic.

At one time I thought I would be behind a pulpit in service to God and mankind but I couldn't come to grips with the exclusiveness of a love that cost nothing, requires everything, and is hinged on my ability to earn God's approval through his follower's acceptance. Even then there are no guarantees! To make matters worse many have been excluded from fellowship by default with God's elite for being the very thing they are told they need a Savior for. I have witnessed so many concede the argument only to become disillusioned and bitter because the destination didn't match the brochure. I've taught, preached, and debated on radio and TV the importance of the resurrection and the impending doom of all who forsake it. But in the end it was only an elaborate attempt to feel better about myself. If I did "This, Thus, and So" surely God will be forced to keep his end of the bargain by blessing me with a trouble free life. An abundant life is evidence that God loves you. The shoe never fit and I remained employee of the month at Sins-R-Us.

Still there is a twinge of guilt when I don't drink the company Kool Aid of modern Christianity. My daughters have been raised in a church setting and pray to Jesus daily. I listen in reverence and respect to the messages on Sunday morning but feel as if the pastor is talking to someone else; someone who knows the correct formula for winning God's approval. In Barbara Brown Taylor's book "Leaving Church," she describes my conundrum perfectly:

"God was the boundless lover, but for many people God was the parent who had left. They still read about him in the Bible and sang about him in hymns. They still believed in his reality, which made it even harder to accept his apparent lack of interest in them. They waited for messages from him that did not arrive. They prepared their hearts for meetings that never happened. They listened to other Christians speak as if God showed up every night for supper, leaving them to wonder what they had done wrong to make God go off and start another family."

Never before has a passage from a book described me. Man, I thought this was going to be a fluff piece. I was going to attempt to encourage others that are exploring multiple paths as I have walked such as Buddhism (Tibetan, Shin, and Nichiren), Christianity (Evangelical Fundamentalism, Eastern Orthodoxy), Hinduism, Shamanism, and Taoism, to stay the course and that all roads lead home. Now I see that I am more than shipwrecked on the island of uncertainty. Perhaps I still have issues with this God "who became flesh and dwelt among us."

I enjoyed many aspects of each practice and try to apply the useful and store the rest for future reference. T.S. Elliot once wrote about coming home at journeys end and knowing that place for the first time. I feel I have attempted to return home only to find my room has been rented out. I can say with confidence that I have never really had a home. No one wants to admit they're the odd man out. It's almost like being picked last for a game of dodge ball. Still, I would love to hear that knock at the door that so many promised would come. The phone works, I just never got the call.