What religion did you grow up with?

I grew up in the Mennonite Church. I sort of hate to say this to people who have no background with Mennonites. We didn't wear outfits, we drove cars. In fact, Mennonites were the most liberal people I knew while growing up. (Though this is when compared to the charismatic churches that most everyone else in high school--teachers and students--went to).

Mennonites sing hymns. Seriously sing hymns. Even in the most liberal, tiniest churches, everyone sings in four part harmony. I didn't realize that this was special until I visited a Presbyterian Church and the same hymns sounded so flat and a little pathetic in comparison. My parents can't sing in four part harmony. They didn't grow up Mennonite and can't read music. But I can. I remember the day I figured it out. I think I was about thirteen, in seventh grade. I'd played piano for years and realized one Sunday that I could sing any part if I used my leg as a keyboard and tapped the notes out as I sang.

My parents grew up in the Christian Church. (The domination was actually called "The Christian Church"). We met Mennonites while living at an intentional community (I'm not sure that non-Mennonites know this term--if not, read it as commune though that's not entirely correct). I was four the year we lived at Koininia Partners, a communal farm in Georgia. ("Koinonia has nearly 65 years worth of history—Clarence Jordan, the civil rights movement, local African American history, the birthplace of Habitat for Humanity and other organizations, involvement in many peace and justice movements, community living, agriculture, and much more").

My parents met Mennonites there and were impressed at the humility with which they participated in social justice projects, that they lived their lives with this goal in mind. While at Koinonia, my dad decided he wanted to go to a seminary. The way he tells it, he went to the library to look up seminaries and Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary was first on the list. He took this as a sign and we moved to where the seminary was located--Elkhart, Indiana. My mother got a job as an executive assistant at the Mennonite Church's denominational headquarters and because of this we stayed.

When I was a kid, we learned that God was kind and forgiving. That he/she loved us. (And they really did say "she" sometimes). I once told my mother that I didn't understand the notion of "sin." That as long as you were trying your best (and I always was), wasn't that enough? And she said she thought so too.

Almost everyone we knew from church had spent time in the "developing" world. My mom always had her Sunday School class (first graders) draw pictures for those abroad. A couple living in Pakistan for three years (most people were out for three years--not to proselytize, to work on quality of life projects like clean water) said later that the government had intercepted their letters and cut out pieces of the children's drawings that were apparently too political.

In addition to the weekly offering, we had a "Banana Bank," in which we were encouraged to contribute the equivalent that we spent on bananas and coffee that week, to acknowledge that the growers of these crops were treated unfairly--that trade policies on these goods were unfair. Then we sent the funds to areas in which this was an issue.

My mom still works for the Mennonite Church, almost 25 years later. Though after my brother got sick Dan said he told her, "I don't think that God cares that much about my life." So I suppose that she still believes in God, but not a god that is active in our lives.

When my brother got sick, he thought he was Jesus Christ. He told me this after he'd finally given up the delusion. He wrote a paper about his experience with schizophrenia the summer he started to come out of it. It was called "What a Strange Trip It's Been." I think there was a second part to the title, but I don't want to look at it right now. It's an extremely coherent piece. He died three months after writing it. After he died, the college at which he died sent my parents his belongings. They threw them out after awhile and I never had to look at them, but it included a journal that said in giant letters, "FUCK YOU WORLD, FUCK YOU GOD."

I felt this way before Dan's death and I still feel it. I don't care at all about religion or "spirituality." I don't even feel like calling myself an atheist. It all seems so ridiculous, both spirituality and the notion of calling yourself an atheist, like you have the authority with which to say that there is or is not a god. Of course humans want to believe in a higher power, that we're not alone. It's a predictable psychological need but that doesn't mean there is a God.

I feel like this post might spark some discussion and/or criticism but I feel like writing it. If I believed in God, I'd be a Mennonite. I admire Mennonites for what they do--it's most like 1/4 white guilt, but it's mostly a response to the teachings of Christ that they behave as they do. Mennonites are staunchly pacifist and take the idea of simple living very seriously. (Though it doesn't always work out--I knew a lot of wealthy Mennonites in college who tried very hard to hide their wealth, like it was a dirty secret--kind of a reverse conspicuous consumption).

But I don't believe in God. And I'm a lot more annoyed at those who describe themselves as not religious but "spiritual." I have no idea what that means. I am much less annoyed by people who at least grip onto a religion with history.

And that's one thing I can't believe I glossed over in my last relationship. My fiance's belief in something spiritual, some sort of higher power. A hodgepodge of American Indian spirituality from a post-Catholic, semi-scarred perspective. I'm glad that my current boyfriend is at least, if not more, annoyed with religion (especially in politics) as I am.

I haven't written about this because I have nothing more to say about spirituality than that it strikes me as ridiculous. I can't believe that most of the world clings to this childlike mythology as though it is in any way mature or reasonable. I still don't have much more to say than that but after this post it seems that maybe I do.