I'm a...I'm a....HUH?

If someone asks me what my religious affiliation is, I always get that "deer in the headlights look." It's an easy question for most people, but not me. I'm never sure what to say. I think most people are what their parents were. My parents were not anything, really. My mom took us to a Baptist church when we were little. The only real memory I have of that is drawing on the church bulletin during sermon, and making pigs out of Clorox bottles during Vacation Bible school. My dad had no use for the church. His mom had been a strict Baptist, one of those "women wear only dressses" and "are submissive" and "little girls should not be wearing shorts outside and showing their limbs" kind of Baptists.

When my mom decided to divorce my dad, the church turned on her and took my dad's side. I guess they forgot who had been plunking her money in the offering plate every Sunday, what little bit she had left out of the grocery money he gave her each week. Soon after the divorce, she married my step-dad, and he had the attitude of "when you die, you're dead" and considered himself an atheist. If he really was, I don't know, but he was the nicest man I had in my life up until that time.

My religious upbringing consisted of a set of The Bible Story volumes sold door to door (I like to think God had some influence in my dad actually buying those for us) and the free gift with them- a set of Uncle Authur's Bedtime Storybooks. I loved the pictures in the Bible Story books, but didn't read much of it. However, those bedtime story books were fascinating. For one thing, my parents were not readers, so bedtime stories were something kids on tv got read to them. I read them to myself. And they were good stories of kids who learned to have faith, obey their parents, have good manners, etc.

Two of those stories I still remember. One was of two little girls who became lost in the woods and prayed and were found. One is of a family who had no food, who prayed and a bread truck speeding by had a door fly open and it rained four loaves of bread into their front yard, with no way to trace down the rightful owners. The front of the book assured us that the stories were true. I believed it. That's how I learned to pray when I had a problem. I still do. (I saved all those books to give to my grandchildren.)

I went to church at sixteen with a friend from school, and went forward and decided to be baptized. I was told to come back that night. I begged someone from my family to go with me, but none would, so I went alone. I remember crying, not because it was a moving experience, but because no one would come with me. I tried going to a youth group activity that weekend, and they were snobs and wouldn't talk to me. I didn't go back.

I put the religious thing on the back burner until my daughter was born. Then I began to feel guilty that she needed some religious upbringing. We went to Baptist because that was all I knew. We went until she was older. It stuck with her, and she is Baptist to this day. I guess my younger sons were too young when we quit for it to stick. One is Pagan, one claims to be agnostic.

I dabbled in other churches. I went to Church of Christ, Methodist, and Mormon. I don't fit there anywhere. I read my son's Wicca/Pagan books. I read about Shinto because I like Japanese Gardens. I looked into Taoism. If you can say anything about me, I'm curious.

I don't know what to call myself. But I do know a few things. I believe in God. I pray. I believe in heaven as some place we all came from and go back to. I don't believe in hell. I believe in Karma. I believe our spirits are eternal. I don't believe in man-made ordinances and rituals being laid down as law. I don't believe in using guilt and fear to make someone conform and behave. I don't believe in a punishing, mean, vindictive God. I think if we are his children, and he loves us all, he may be disappointed in us, but he's not sending people to hell because of it. I think punishment is what we bring on ourselves, our natural consequences with a healthy dose of Karma thrown in.

I believe in doing good for others, but not in getting recognition for it. I think if you do something and then toot your own horn, and stand up and be recognized for it, you might as well have not done it in the first place. You defeated the purpose which was unselfish giving from the heart, not praise and recognition.
I don't believe we should judge each other, or rate people according to how righteous we feel they are. Who says any of us are the authority on what is good? Would you trust Bin Laden to determine what is moral? What is we are wrong? What if we don't know all the circumstances?

So when someone asks me what I am, here's what I want to say: "I'm an non-religious eclectic Christian." Here's what I say, "Uh...non-denominational."