Other Voices, other tunes

I had the luxury this weekend of getting a vacation from my family - spending the weekend at a scrapbooking retreat, with a group of new friends. The scrapbooking was great, the laughter loud, the reminiscing a bit teary. And then we started talking about church.

Now before I start this, I will say this about my new friends. They are lovely. "Lovely" isn't a word I use all that often - it feels contrived. But lovely they were, generous and kind to the new girl and her friend. I genuinely enjoyed their company, and can't wait to do it again.

I spent two full days with them - shared pictures of our children, tales of our husbands, discovered that we all used the same OB to deliver. I have seen almost all of them in pajamas. But then, the specter of the really and truly faithful loomed around the table. These women are religious with a capital R, and honestly, in all of the best ways. They are honest about their faith, not pushy, not judgmental. Their faith is the foundation of their lives and families, and they truly care about each other, and those around them. And if they are lovely, and caring, and kind... Why do my defenses go up when they start sharing their faith with me?

I would like to think I am quietly faithful. I'm a big fan of God, even if he did not deliver me from twin toddler Hell as quickly as I asked. (To be fair, if I had gotten that screeching request full of expletives, I might not have honored it either.) I like the idea that something bigger than my tiny self exists and is steering me a bit, even if I insist on turning the wrong way.

When G and I got married, I railed against a church that I felt was "closed." The priest that helped perform the ceremony explained that it was like being invited over for dinner. You're welcome to come and share the meal,he said, but not go back into the kitchen and help make dessert. As I drove home yesterday, I found myself thinking of this - how is it that I can rail against something because I think it is closed, and then not be open to the idea of a different way to celebrate my faith?

I admire these women. They really and truly believe that God will take care of them, those they love, and those for whom they petition. They are good models of what I think faithful women can become. The women, my new friends, are open to others. They didn't care that I practiced a different way, or admitted that I sometimes didn't feel comfortable in a church with contemporary music. Their hearts and minds are open.

At the end of the day, the problem lies within. In my mind, I just can't let go. I try, albeit half-heartedly. I ask for help, but don't believe it will come. I try and attend a mass, but then drift off making mental grocery lists during the service. I will try and read a faith-based book, but put it down as soon as I think it is "too preachy", or "not my style." At the end of the day, I am intimidated by their honesty and willingness to listen to another voice.

I write this not to start a debate, although it might, and it might be an interesting one. I write this to start a process of being more honest, mainly with myself. I can't continue to be cafe religious, only taking the things that suit me, and leaving the brussel sprouts behind. In doing that, I think I am becoming the type of person that really and truly bugs me - the ones that are professedly faithful, yet judge and berate those who choose a different path.

So here goes. Where this leads me, I'm not really sure. But I guess that's part of the point, right?