Not that my personal experience with said institution has been all that bad. My father was raised Christian, my uncle is an Episcopalian priest and I spent a big chunk of my childhood singing with my best friend in her church’s choir.
But as an adult, I cringe at the wars, terrorism, bigotry and racism that have been—and continue to be—performed in the name of Christianity.
So how did I find myself sitting in a pew a few weeks ago, humming along to a tune that I recognized from childhood as “Praise Him from whom all blessings flow,” holding a sheet of paper listing hymns and sermons, and folding my $5 donation into a tiny manila envelope?
Let’s back up to the paganism part. For some time, I’ve worried that my children have no regular exposure to the concept of social responsibility, something that seems to be reinforced by organized religion. Although I spend a big part of my life focused on increasing people’s awareness of eco-consciousness, my children don’t connect growing and eating organic food, recycling, composting and turning off the lights with any bigger picture.
Yes, we meet as a family each year and choose where our annual donation will go. We donate cans and diapers to food banks, clothing to charity, and games to Toys for Tots. My husband and I talk with our children about Doing The Right Thing, and try to demonstrate that concept with our actions. But there was no regular instruction in the benefits—both socially and personally—of empathetic action.
And we had no division of days. Our big end-of-the-week activity was watching “60 Minutes” together—often with both my husband and I on our laptops, catching up on work. I felt like our workweek was sliding into our weekend and back again. There was no full stop, no reflection or meditation—things that I remembered from Sunday mornings, and things that I wanted my children to experience.
So I stumbled into a Unitarian Universalist church a few weeks ago. I was nervous, anxious, and sat near the back. The high beams and creaky pews transported me back to childhood as I watched children gather at an altar to donate canned food for the homeless.
But although the sounds and smells were familiar, the message was radically different. There was no representative Jesus on the cross; instead, symbolic flags showed symbols of Christianity, Judaism, Muslimism, Buddhism, Hinduism, and many other isms that I didn’t recognize. And the service, which involved a spoken meditation written by Thich N’hat Hanh and a reading from a book by Holocaust survivor Dr. Viktor Frankl, was proof of the congregants’ claims to be resolutely “anti-racism, anti-oppression and united by shared values, not by creed or dogma.”
Remember that “Praise Him” tune I was humming? Here’s what we sang that day:
Rejoice in love we know and share,
In love and beauty everywhere;
Rejoice in truth that makes us free,
And in the good that yet shall be.
I’m not saying that this church answers all my questions or solves the problems that I struggle with as a parent—perhaps the cup will cloud over at UU, too. But I’ll be bringing my kids back next week.
Amen.
P.S. This will be the last Mommy Greenest post for a while, as I’m taking this show on hiatus. Three kids, life and EcoStiletto.com is taking its toll, and I’d really like to watch “60 Minutes” without interruption. See you in 2010! xxRachel
