Good morning Reader! I hope your last two weeks have been whatever you needed them to be. Mine were adventurous to say the least. Maybe I'll blog about it later, but if you want to know something, just ask me personally. It's difficult to find a place to start or pick out the most important parts and lay them out in a blog post--but know that I'm always open for questions of any kind.
Up until this point, My Epic Life has involved a lot of sugar-coated optimism, and sometimes that's what a blog needs to be. That's kind of where and why this particular blog originated. But, there are a lot more wondrous things out there that don't necessarily involve wide eyed smiles and a feeling of glee. I'll explain more later.
I equate change and its effects to swallowing pills. Sometimes it's too much at one time to be comfortable, sometimes it's barely noticeable, other times you fight it tooth and nail, and sometimes you're so eager for the effects that you take whatever you can get your hands on and go overboard. Change can be everything and nothing--that is it can be one of four things. 1. Your situations can change and you can stay the same. 2. Your situation can change and you can change along with it. 3. Your situation can stay the same and you choose to change anyways. 4. Nothing changes.
So if you knew me, really knew me, maybe you'd know what I was studying in school, some of the things I've been involved in, how I lean politically etc. If I brought up religion, and you were under the impression I was non-religious, I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. My religious beliefs tend to stay in the personal realm. I don't broadcast anything, and if it does come up in anything other than an intellectually based conversation, it's in a very specific context like a poem or something like that.
If you prompted me to talk about religion, especially organized religion, you might see me cringe slightly. You might hear me talk about the crusades, Spanish Inquisition, canonical bible, or other historical facts and figures. You might hear me mention that people report feeling the presence of God during seizures originating in the temporal lobe. You might hear me talk about taking a class on the rationality of faith. With deeper probing, you might hear me talk about my experiences involving the abuses of religious authority in my own hometown or in my own church. I might tell you about how much pain and suffering I know religious teachings to have caused other people, some very close to me.
Even deeper probing might cause me to joke a little bit about how hearing Green Day for the first time was a religious experience. Or, I might get serious and tell you what I pray about, or I might mention situations involving things like coyotes, baby bunnies, tree frogs, songs on the radio, and a book by Brent Runyon, that I can't always easily explain. I might even tell you about my atheist, agnostic, or non-mainstream religious friends who have demonstrated more love and respect towards Christians than Christians have ever shown in return--or I might talk about how faith has let my grandmother continue to smile despite burying three children, her husband, and I don't know how many siblings.
Hopefully you kind of get a sense of how I go about religion. It's a live and let live situation where I don't bother you and you don't bother me on matters of personal belief. Given all of that, my adventure to the 2012 ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) National Youth Gathering, held in New Orleans, might seem like a curve ball, and frankly, it was. However, if there exists some sort of mechanism that balances out the earth and individual experience, then my adventure contained traces of that mechanism. At the very least, it has initiated a slight shift in opinion, or at least a recognition that there exists people and organizations lying in direct contrast to my own previous experiences.
I could now tell you about being soaking wet and singing in the middle of a raging storm on the streets of NOLA with 38 of my adopted relatives. I could tell you about hearing heavily tattooed pastor, Nadia Bolz-Weber speak about the nature of God. I could tell you about hearing Nobel Peace Prize Laureate, Leymah Gbowee, speak about hope. I could tell you about hearing Shane Claiborne, who was arrested for feeding the homeless of Philadelphia, speak about radical love. I could tell you what it's like to ride through the 9th ward and lower 9th ward on a silent coach bus during the middle of a flash flood, and still see the vivid scars of Hurricane Katrina present on the landscape. As I have said before and will say again, I remain cautiously optimistic in regards to my experiences, but I could tell you all sorts of things now involving religion and religious belief that I don't think I could have told you before, nor would I have necessarily believed if I wasn't experiencing it firsthand--and that is a surprisingly sweet pill to swallow.
Peace. Be well.
-Megan
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