Our Solipsistic Generation and The Gnostic GospelsThe conscious and badgering focus of our generation on the self... the cult of the self (does that mean our church is, well... Ikea or something?), the blogosphere, the iPod, Netflix, MySpace, Dining In... it's all part of this movement inward and away from other people, right? I think of philosophy lecture halls and graduate student cages at BU, lit with flourescents and humming also with urgent and IMPORTANT discussion about the self, the true self, the natural self... being, Being and Time, the impartial spectator, morality, God, Love, existence, the crushing existential dilemma, phenomenology, hedonism, objectivism (sounds like I'm going to start singing "Ball of Confusion," but I'm not... yet). It felt then (all of 19 and ready to set the world on fire) that there were truths to be learned and that if I applied myself to understanding them that I could attain, get, have, hold, be... a more complete and fulfilled person. I asked Professor Griswold (Phil. Dept. Chair) once, after my first intro class (which he was teaching on a lark I guess) if there was "an Answer" and if the exhilaration one felt while delving into their first Socratic dialogue - the sense of progress toward some kind of universal agreement (truth with a capital "T") - was real and to be believed in. Did it lead anywhere but to more questions? I knew they would better and more interesting questions... but "do you ever get to the Truth ?" I asked, wide eyed and really expecting an answer. Where does this path go?
My own life showed me that where this led was the grad lounge in the Theology building, where the grad students (sages at 25 with goatees to match) sat around rolling cigarettes and telling each other what they really should be reading. The Heidegger people told everyone they should really read "What is Called Thinking" before the discussion can go any further and likewise, unless you had read "On Certainty" the brooding bespectacled Wittgenstein scholar can no longer talk to you and everyone knows the Kant guys are just all about "the Critique". Everyone has a book suggestion and ideas became incompatible and we lost the foothold to begin a dialogue of any kind. Even I with my quiet insistence (ok, it was in my mind, I never spoke to them about ideas) on Kierkegaard's "Christian Discourses" closed me off to other people and other ideas.
Where was I going with this... oh, right. So I went to church last weekend to accompany my mother who has recently rediscovered the church of my youth and her married life. When we attended regularly (roughly 1973 - 1991) my mom was a force of nature, involved in everything and a whirlwind of energy. My brother and I were most often sullen teenagers waiting impatiently for her to finish with her alter guild duties or coffee hour conversations. But it has been a long time. We went to the 8:00am service and I woke up at 7:00am
entirely certain I should not be doing this (fell asleep around 3am after watching the Godfather with my brother and sister in law - awoken at 6:30am by dog's thunderous barking at squirrels on bird feeder and fierce sunlight streaming into my retina - awesome) but I kept moving - into the shower - into my clothes - out the door - as if it was meant to be.
I'm not sure what I was expecting - but it was awesome. I mean,I had taught Sunday school within these walls, had my first communion, cheekily questioned father Ray about Wicca and magic and why the Lord as leading us into temptation in the first place ("isn't that the devil's job?" I had chirped at 14 in church school) sigh... This place is as much a part of who I am as any place I can think of. High school memories (sad and happy): choir, the fair, youth group ecumenical dances (people calling Nat Fairbanks and I the "two towers" as we slow danced in the Masonic temple for the first time (well, I guess between us we
were over 12 feet tall) : )
So here we were in this church watching the lanky acolyte run in late, remembering doing the same thing and being chastised by Mr. Jacobs (who later granted me the rotary scholarship despite my tardy teenagerly ways). The parish full of familiar faces - all older different than I remember, once vibrant "adult" personalities faded by age and time, washed out somehow. Some people remember us, others don't. My mom makes a really genuine effort to jog everyone's memory "I was on the vestry? Remember... the alter guild? Katy was in the choir? We were both in the first bell Choir too?" Sigh... it feels good to be there either way.
Apres service, we were excited to attend a discussion group about the Gnostic gospels (newly discovered Judas especially) and the relationship to the DaVinci Code, the Opus Dei, etc. and modern Christian truth/ doctrine. 8 of us in the same room where we had high school Sunday school discussion and races to find bible verses with Ann - I sit now with a mixed group - ages ranging from me at 33 to the oldest being at least 70. Everyone interested and everyone engaged, polite, honest, earnest... The coolest part I think being the new pastor, Father Grant - unbelievable. Well educated, patient, endearing... talking to an older crowd about the uncertainty and the (gasp)
intellectual choices that were made at the council of Jamnia (and later) that now govern our faith. You could look around the room and see that, not unlike my question to Prof. Griswold, these people fully expect Father Grant to tell them "The Truth" with a capital T and it's a confusing path to get there. We were all over the place - movies, literature, scripture, musicals - and when it was over I think a few of the older people were getting the distilled version from the other members (i.e. "so, what he is saying is the DaVinci code isn't really true? Ok, thanks"). But it was so much fun - his presence was very warm, yet scholarly (chiding the group for not knowing any of the prophets by name and yet remembering the characters names from The DaVinci Code without even a slight pause).
The discussion was thought provoking, spiritual, exciting and warm. The community is at once both familiar and new, inviting, comfortable and exciting. I am eager to return for this Sunday's service and discussion group - I guess we'll take it from there. Rejoining the church may be fraught with crises of nostalgia and identity - but I think that there is a strong spiritual situation happening at St. Luke's and I'm pretty excited to at least check it out. I know my mom is excited too and it would be something nice for us to rediscover our spiritual life together.
Our lives sometimes feel like non-repeating decimals, just going on and on forever without any pattern or rhythmn. Then there are moments where you can recognize meaning and something important that might be showing itself to you. I look at my experience at St. Luke's like that. I think I am being presented with an opportunity to be involved in a community and an experience that comes from love and shared belief in God. Father Grant seems interested in people questioning their faith and has demonstrated an obvious talent for communication and pedagogy - it's cool and I'm psyched.
Oh, and just so people don't start wondering who's blog they are reading... the Divine Miss K and I are checking out Cinderella and Poison at the Meadows this August with her baby sis, the Delightful JP and I are seeing Bob AGAIN in July at the ME (but no more hugs with germy Aviv and/or long rides home during Passover!), I am singing with the tremendous Lunenburg Trio tomorrow night in beautiful rural Lunenburg, MA (we are trying a Night in Tunisia - yikes!), Nikki Sixx AND Slash just parted ways with their spouses of many years and there's been talk of a van and a trip to Cali to help them heal... we're considering all the options (oh, what would Miss Pamela do!)and the Volebeats are my new favorite band (with the exception of the Gravel Pit of course).
That should do it for now - until we meet again you may visit me at MySpace.
