Hoarding Religion
It’s been some time since my last entry here. A lot has happened in the previous month. I quit a job and found another, if only part time. I’ve moved my family back down to our college stomping grounds, to the oasis that is Abilene, Texas. My wife and I have spent some much needed time addressing some things in our marriage that have been bubbling just under the surface for the past year. And as usual, we continue our ongoing conversation about our struggles with the established church.
On somewhat of a side note, we ran across a show last night called Hoarders. As we both watched with great difficulty, I was a bit surprised by the relatively easy parallels I was able to draw between the people on the show, and the people living in a pretty severe case of denial amidst their religious “life.” From my perspective, it seems as though in both cases (the “religious” person and the hoarder) these folks essentially ruin their lives, and even the lives of those who are closest to them, by insisting, often violently, that they control, even down to the most miniscule of details, their stuff. Nothing is allowed to leave their presence without their approval and rigorous inspection, all the while discovering junk they didn’t even know they had and denying that they’d forgotten about it.
To make a long story short, in both instances, my wife and I found that there is no sense of the present. On the show, the hoarders held so tightly to their memories, somehow wrapped up in their stuff, that they completely missed out on their present life, along with all of the missed opportunities for relationships therein. Many of them were packing things away claiming to be “preparing for a rainy day,” worry about what could or might happen somewhere down the line, in the unforeseeable and unpredictable future.
I would argue the same is true for many people who call themselves Christians. The danger here is that we exercise a false notion of control, examining down to the most minute detail our religious thoughts, studies and facts that we miss out on today. We lose the opportunity for real and lasting relationship because we are too concerned about our thoughts being contaminated or our little world being rocked by someone entering in and tossing out all the crap. I would also contend that we spend way too much time preparing for a rainy day, or heaven as some of us might call it, that we completely miss out on the reason we exist.
In my opinion, our purpose for existence is to live following the example of Christ. Loving recklessly. Engaging in relationship here and now. Inviting everyone around us into a new way of living, one that shakes everything we know and understand and think-we-can-control down to the very core. I believe that as real and indescribable as the air we breathe, so too is the spirit of God living in us. And if that’s true, I do not believe that spirit exists as a boarding pass to some far off country where we won’t have to struggle anymore. It seems that in our false hope for a place far off in the future where everything will be different, we forget to make a difference here. We don’t live any differently because, what’s the point? This won’t last anyway. We are more consumer-American than sustainable-Christian.
As Gandhi would say, “Be the change you want to see.” So, if you believe there is a heaven, be the change. Live today like there is one, make it happen. Quit holding on to your junk, whatever that may be, and live life and live it abundantly, without your self erected prison walls. If you believe Jesus is a real person, live like it. If you participate in the eucharist, live like Christ really is living in you. Make a difference, be the change.
