Those Places
Central Pennsylvania is dotted with churches. Some dating back to the arrival of the first white settlers. Others are modern facilities complete with media installations to support an array of electronic age preaching. I see the buildings while I ride and am curious about the people and services that take place inside.
I’ve had a long history of interest in churches as examples of architecture and culture. As a child, my mother dragged me into every church in Bavaria and beyond. The human history in those places made a lasting impression. The nature of religion and faith were only words, but they played a part in the history I was learning.
Religion was problematic for me. I recognized early the adult hypocrisy reflected in the personal politics of the congregational leadership. Hearts and minds. When I left for college, my religious education had pushed me toward agnosticism but ending up a dissenter. There was a mistrust of the people behind the words heard in the church.
God is Still Speaking
While four decades passed looking at churches from the outside. While I held a belief that a Prime Mover existed, distrust of the establishment running the church continued. Perhaps the best reflection of my own feelings of church and God were found, accidentally, in James Fenimore Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales which begin with The Deerslayer
Church in the Forest
God, religion, faith — all personal choices and explorations that provide meaning or solace that may make sense for me yet be utterly incomprehensible to another. Riding through quiet places, finding solitude, and being alone with my thoughts is where I find God. For a very long time I could not bring myself to apply that label for reasons stretching back to my teenage experiences in church. Time and experience has revealed the presence of some higher power that I can rely on. I don’t try to explain it or justify it to others. I require no proof or scientific evidence or argument beyond my own senses.
Walking Through the Door
A little over a year ago a reader suggested I consider attending a service at a church just down the street from my home. I had been considering attending a Christmas Eve service — motivated primarily by nostalgia and the desire to remember times I spent with my mother and father.
The church, and it’s services, are surprisingly familiar. The spoken words, the rituals, it’s as if nothing has changed in 45 years. Except me. And I’ve sensed none of the congregational intrigue that I witnessed as a child. There’s a genuine feeling of caring and fellowship. But still I’m guarded.
My natural uneasiness with groups of people is in play and always leaves me feeling an outsider. I prefer to be alone. More than one other person is a crowd. And a congregation, well, it remains a challenge.
I consider church, and faith, an ongoing personal journey.
We attend the same churches…Bald Eagle, Rothrock, etc.
Ride on…avoid the hypocrits.
Some fine places flush with solitude.
When approached at the front door or on the street by young handsome recuitors of one religious following or another I respond with a smile. When questioned as to my belief in a higher calling I always respond with “I would rather be sitting on my bike thinking about God than sitting in a church thinking about my bike” Seems to work?
That made me chuckle. I had to think a bit about what goes on in my head when I’m in church…
I have very similar sentiments…
I think a lot of people might be in the same place.
In part because my rides take me through farmland, which is of course private, I often stop in the tiny, isolated cemeteries, which are the only public places to stretch and poke around. Usually surrounded by nothing but miles of fields, quite a few of these have little chapels, often no larger than 600 square feet, and I was halfway through the riding season before I realized the chapels are nearly always open. One of my favorites has a tiny pump organ with a note on it inviting visitors to play, and so I do.
I’m not a religious guy, but I find those spaces calming and even at times quite profound — in part I’m simply taken in by being allowed into a community space that is unlocked and open; that level of trust is both rare and moving.
And then, of course, the graveyards have their own tales. I hadn’t realized, for example, that many of the farms surrounding my town were first settled by Norwegians — the mind stretches out as it tries to imagine the story of a woman born in Oslo in 1812, and what she must have thought of this isolated spot in Idaho….
We have many small cemeteries here but few with chapels. The larger ones may have a church attached. But I know what you mean about the calming effects of the spaces — indoors or out. Perhaps it’s because the space is sort of disconnected from everything that you can focus.
It is hard to imagine starting in Oslo and ending up in Idaho. Those early settlers were made of stern stuff.
Touchy subject, and similar to you had the problem of forcible confinement on Sunday doing the religious terror thing.
And like you have come to an understanding of yes there is something out there
however my recognition of same may well not happen on this plane of existence.
As I age discover friends of similar ilk tend to find religion and the congregational feeling as comforting whereas I do not.
As one who enjoys listening and at one time when more physically able playing classical and yes theatre organs soon discovered locations for both were often in places that smacked more or less of religion in one form or another. And in those places statuary
and stained windows reminded me as a non-believer that i was in the wrong place.
These days i tend to avoid such edifices, and as well those who represent same either on their sleeve or at my front door.
And has been noted, you may find “your” God where ever you want….it is more or less a form of self directed solace in the end.
This was the one writing prompt that I was a bit nervous about. Religion and politics — you now the old saying.
There is a lot of things at work in our head’s when the topic surfaces or presents itself. And there seems to be no end to the range of religious interpretation and application. The fire and brimstone crowd is off putting but there are some you would never know you were in church.
Steve my relationship with religion is along the lines of Bill Mahr, I’m afraid.
A forest of towering pines is as close to a proper religious venue as any I can think of. More so if you throw in ten minutes of mindful meditation.
Maher certainly raises some sticky issues for a lot of evangelical Christians. I haven’t heard him interact with Buddhists or Zen practitioners. Or others. But we all find our own path with spiritual issues.
oooops… Bill MAHER.
Steve,
In the end it is not about religion but a right relationship with JESUS who suffered and died for us all. Remember what he said: “No one comes to the Father but by Me. For I and the Father are one. He who has seen me has seen my Father.”. Moving forward seek a better relationship with JESUS and God will bless you richly.
I am familiar with the statement. And I remember as a kid wondering about babies and children too young to have the right relationship. And then then all the non-christians who never heard of Jesus. It was an unwelcome pondering in Sunday school that didn’t get a good answer. What really stands out in my mind from that time — a Sunday school teacher telling me I would not see my dead dog in heaven. It was crushing then. And now I just think ” how the heck does she know?”
In your comments you mention that you were nervous about the subject of this post, but rest assured that for me it was welcomed because you addressed an important issue WITHOUT being preachy or overbearing. You simply stated your current position on the issue, and connected it to your experience of riding — something to which I suspect most avid riders will relate. As usual, you have the courage to reveal your stance on questions of personal significance to everyone, which is one of the many reasons I subscribe to your blog. Thanks for another great post!
Religion, faith and belief can trigger strong reactions. Especially if, as you say, they’re preachy or overbearing. So I just wasn’t sure when the writing prompt appeared. So I just worked to share my personal experience.
I appreciate your feedback and thoughts on what I post. I really do.
I did 12 years of Catholic School, but ignored religion after I turned 18. When my late wife passed I began to see signs of communication around me so I’m not so sure Religion is a bad thing. I may not cling to the nuttier doctrines but I see how a higher realm just might exist. It may explain how we keep these damn machines running.
I think we all come to our own realization or acceptance of things regarding the higher realm in our own time. Otherwise we’re just going through motions. And if we choose to disregard or not believe, that’s a choice too.