Jun
24
2008

I went to bible camp and all I got was this spiritual void!

posted by mzemait2 at 5:34 pm.

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The other weekend, I was sitting around with my gal pals, chugging back keystones and talking about uncircumcised penises — ya know, the usual. After we touched on other hard-hitting issues like sex and people who annoy the shit out of us, we started talking about what we were like in high school.

I entertained my friends with stories of my God Squad days (in particular my now infamous “Brother-in-Christ” story). My friend Veronica asked with bemused wonderment, “Mary, how did you go from being who you were then … to who you are now?”

I took a swig of my warmed Keystone and deadpanned, “We’re going to need some more beer.”

I gave ‘em the cliff notes version, which is that during my senior year of high school, I started doubting the existence of God and through reflection realized that many of my true opinions on social issues did not jive with the Church’s (they tend to frown upon abortion, gay rights, and feminism, which did not juxapose well with the bleeding-heart-liberal that was growing inside of me). Then over time, the power of the ideology wore off on me, and I became … me, I suppose. I did what I wanted without the influence of religious dogma or the fear of damnation. An individual’s struggle with faith is intangible, mystical, and complicated, and it is very much based on thought processes and personal realizations, which makes it pretty much impossible to adequately explain. Just as I can not convey to people the importance of when I got saved, I can not truly express how I lost my faith. And we really didn’t have enough beer.

Veronica’s question has haunted me. And though I can’t convey in words the internal ups and downs of my spiritual status, I do remember one moment in particular.

I lost my faith on a zip line.

Yes, a zip line. As in, that thing that Macaulay Culkin swung down in Home Alone. A fucking zip line.

My senior year of high school, after the seeds of doubt had already been planted in my head, I went on another retreat with my youth group (a year after the Brother-in-Christ retreat). We all got black hoodies that had a funky design on them that stood for “Live Life by Loving God.” I wore this hoodie a lot. I still wear from time to time, although now with a sense of irony and kitsch. The theme of the retreat was “Free Falling.” But this was no Tom Petty concert. The lesson was that we should trust God completely with our lives and “free fall” into faith. And the pastor used the concept of falling from heights to make his point. We started the weekend with “trust falls” from a table with our youth group. I almost hyperventilated when we had to do the table trust fall, but I did it. My pastor then told us that the culminating event would be a ride on a 4-story zip line, where we were supposed to fall backward with our eyes closed and arms reached out to the sky.

Heights. It had to be heights.

In addition to dying alone, failure, and driving, I am terrified of heights. Not necessarily heights, but the possibility of crunching my body on the earth below me. I was not looking forward to the zip line.

I almost started crying when I was climbing up those four stories. And when I reached the top, I did, in fact, start crying. I clutched the pole of the crow’s nest while my youth pastor tried to calm me down and give me the courage to take the plunge. He assured me, “Mary, God is not going to let you fall.”

And I couldn’t help but think “How the hell would you know?” For all I knew, God could have had it ordained in his Grand Plan that I was to die that day. Having faith in God doesn’t mean that wonderful things are going to happen to you. He was just telling me this because it fit with his metaphor. He didn’t really know. As I tiptoed my way to the edge with tears in my eyes, I remember realizing for the first time that dogma was being used to manipulate me into believing something.

“You can do it, Mary! All you have to do is let go,” I heard him yell.

This is not when I lost my faith in God. This was when I lost faith in religion. But it’s a challenge to keep faith in one and not the other.

I was at the edge of losing my faith in God. And all I had to do was

let

go.

I jumped off the zip line.

Faith-sucking zip line

Now with 50 percent more life-changing personal realizations!!!

Mary Zemaitis: I enjoy comedy. And entendres. Sometimes, Triple Entendres.

Comments

Sarah (Sarah) says:
(Posted June 24th, 2008 at 8:12 pm)

Kudos. I’m what I like to call a “dead again Christian.” GOD SQUAD wootwoot.

Liamz (Liamz) says:
(Posted June 24th, 2008 at 11:29 pm)

I was recently told that people who are afraid of heights are afraid of heights because what they’re really afraid of is that they think they might jump. The same goes for people who are afraid of standing to far out on the subway platform. It’s not that they’re afraid they’ll get pushed, it’s that they’re afraid they’ll jump themselves. They just kinda want to see it happen.

Also, I’ve been thinking about how great the movie Home Alone is lately. With that, I shall leave you with these words of wisdom, “(Fuller,) take it easy on the Pepsi!”

Liamz (Liamz) says:
(Posted June 24th, 2008 at 11:30 pm)

PS I love your picture of the Zip Line grandma. If it were at all possible to tag people on the217, I’d have a certain granny who I’d like to tag. PS he’s not in France anymore so you should give him a call. I think he hates Americans now.

Sarah (Sarah) says:
(Posted June 25th, 2008 at 1:46 am)

Mary, you’re what the French call “les incompetent”

Mary Z. (Mary Z.) says:
(Posted June 25th, 2008 at 8:11 am)

Liam, that’s really weird. I wouldn’t say that that’s exactly the case, but I have wondered that before. Especially when I was younger, I’d often wonder what would happen if i did something that wasn’t supposed to be normal, sane conduct. The common scenario is that I’d want to see what would happen if i just stood up in the middle of class and just started shouting.

Also, I don’t think I have his number. Could you please give it to me on a non-public forum?

Amy (Amy) says:
(Posted June 25th, 2008 at 4:13 pm)

Mary, love this this post.

Amy (Amy) says:
(Posted June 25th, 2008 at 4:14 pm)

And that’s not the imperative. That’s me saying in a hip, grammatically incorrect way , “Mary, I love this post.”

Roni (Roni) says:
(Posted June 26th, 2008 at 4:05 pm)

So, here’s the thing.
I feel as if I’m on a never ending quest to figure shit out, I like to call it life. A big part of life is God. To believe or not to believe seems to contribute to a lot of people’s sense of self. I grew up in a family that was somewhat shocked to hear I didn’t believe in God. Why they were shocked I have no idea, it’s not like they ever talked about it with me, or took me to church, or even baptized me. They didn’t seemed so concerned with the state of my soul before.

The thing is, now I’m not so sure. So far I haven’t found the organized religion for me, and I doubt I ever will. But that isn’t what I’m looking for. I guess I’m looking for a reason to believe one way or the other, and I wonder whether it’s fair to judge faith in God by what creepy church camp counselors (or CCCCs) have to say about him or his plan. (Them or any other human spouting ‘God’s Word’) Because like you said, “How the hell do they know?”

Sometimes it’s nice to just let loose and believe for a moment that there is something out there in the universe. What that something is, I have no idea. But (and this is going to be cheesy) that something is bigger than humans, the earth, or Lindsay Lohan’s drug problem, and it unites us with everything that ever existed. Maybe it’s not fair that I only believe sometimes, when I really need to think that shit happens because it is supposed to, but I just can’t help myself.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I loved this post, and I’m coming out on your blog as an agnostic. Keep it a secret though, I’m not ready to tell my parents.

Alyssa (Alyssa) says:
(Posted June 26th, 2008 at 9:48 pm)

That whole “wanting to jump” idea is really interesting.

I think I’ve heard a quote about that before. “Every fear hides a wish,” or something to that extent.

I’ve very actively struggled with my faith (or lack thereof?) for years. I had lots of questions that no one could answer, and I felt like I was missing out on something comforting and safe by not being a part of a religion. God, you should’ve seen me during our World Religions section of freshman year history in high school. Every day I’d come home:

“Mom, I think I want to become a Buddhist.”
“Hey, mom, what do you think of Hinduism?”
“It’s called Hasidic Judaism and it IS what I believe!!”

And don’t get me STARTED on my Wicca phase immediately preceding this freshman year fiasco.

And as much as I want to end this comment with a joke or something, I guess what I’m trying to say is that, in all seriousness, sometimes I miss believing.

Mary Z. (Mary Z.) says:
(Posted June 27th, 2008 at 7:03 pm)

For the record, I would just like to say that my youth pastor is not a creep at all. He is one of the most compassionate, loving, open, God-loving men I have ever met. Just because he and other people involved in the youth group gave me some messages that I disagree with or confused me for a long time, does not discount the fact that he cared about me and every single other kid in that group. I know I could call him up anytime to talk about God, spirituality, or anything else for that matter, regardless of my current spiritual status. Even though some of his words may have moved me towards doubt, he has the deep love in his heart for God and God’s creatures that has prevented me from becoming a full-blown atheist.

I miss believing too. There is something not only comforting, but empowering, about having faith. A few years ago, I started crying at the end of the movie Dogma. Very silly, I know, but I was going through these faith issues, and seeing the main character go through these struggles in the middle of this very smart and silly movie got to me.

I also had my period.

Roni (Roni) says:
(Posted June 28th, 2008 at 12:04 am)

Sorry about the creep comment. Really, I am.

Mary Z. (Mary Z.) says:
(Posted June 28th, 2008 at 2:08 pm)

No prob, girl. I’m very aware that I haven’t represented him correctly. By the by, he’s not the pastor in the brother in christ story. That was a different pastor.

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