I hesitate to write about this directly. For starters, I’m Ms. Indirect. I’d much rather talk around a subject than be pinned down on it. I change my mind too often to ever be concrete. But when I take some time to think about it, my heart seizes. For some reason I have this deep seated fear that I could offend some of you. In truth, I’m completely selling my readership short! I know that when I read people of different points-of-view, I don’t judge them. I don’t peer into their world looking for ground I can object to. . . instead, I read your words and seek our common ground. And I am overwhelmed on a daily basis on how much we all have in common. If we choose to see it.
I doubt it escapes any of you that I am a person of faith. I’m not specific in my language opting instead to use inclusive language when I speak of the divine. We’re all seekers after all. There is space for all of you here. Even if we approach our lives differently, we do so with our whole selves—so, no matter how I identify with the divine, there is room here for how you identify with divine.
So, please read these following words as my experience only. I am keenly aware that your experiences will most likely not be mine. And my sharing here is only to express one simple truth: words sustain. Anything more than that is what you bring to it.
Most of you are aware that I grew up in a very religious household. My parents are Missionaries and while I didn’t grow up on the field, I might as well have for the fish-bowl existence I knew. We were too involved in church and the politics around it. It was our life, really. The reasons I did not go on to ordination after graduate school are legion—but my childhood experiences with the church certainly informed my choice.
I don’t want to leave you with the impression that it was all bad. It was just one sided. I think even my parents, who now live in a very different world, will tell you that it was an isolating experience on so many fronts. Can you be too religious? Possibly. My parents were opened minded and fought the often fraught line of separatism with vengeance. No, not all Catholics are going to hell. No, not all Evangelicals are going to heaven. But, this is pond from which I slithered onto dry land. (oh, geeze, a evolution joke, I’m in trouble. Nothing is sacred tonight)
I told you I had issues about being direct.
But that childhood did have some benefit. The first is, I rebelled! And boy what a foundation for rebellion. Not against my parents, but against my community. If they were going to draw the lines so narrowly, I would haul out permanent markers and scribble so far outside the lines as to be off the page. They say “out” I say, in in in in , everybody in.
The second benefit has to do with words. Which is really where I want to take you tonight.
As a child, in this very religious world, I memorized a ridiculous amount of Scripture. Not just verses from Psalms or Proverbs, but whole books. While you were putting to memory lovely lines from cummings or Frost, I was choking down the Apostle Paul. (I don’t like him very much, for the record.) When I was in 2nd grade I memorized the entire book of James. Sadly, all I can recall of that text is this: “What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound? God forbid! How can we who are dead to sin, live any longer therein?” Oh yeah, memorized in King James, thank you very much. Good old Shakespeare came easily after that. Thee, thou, thine. I match your bard to my disciple every time!
I wish you could see my second grade self speaking those words. Because even if you completely disagree with the premise, you couldn’t argue with my performance. I was fierce. God Forbid! With such passion, you’d believe me. If only for the moment.
And those words seep into your very being and have a way of coming back when you least expect it.
Now, here’s what I want to say about scripture “quoaters”. STOP! Take some time to think! Seriously, not every problem can be answered with a quick fix from that blow-hard Paul, or an aphorism from the great teacher himself. Chopping up sacred scripture into pithy soundbites does nothing for your cause. It only makes me irritable. And while I could play along, I respect Scripture too much to do so.
But that’s not really my point tonight. My point is this. Words sustain.
I am totally taken aback when the words of my youth leak out of my subconsciousness in times of stress or turmoil. And even more often in time of awe and joy. Small moments of the past, like lines of a beloved poem or lyrics to the anthems of our lives, come tumbling out and I am surprised to recognize them for what they are.
In college, I traded the New Testament of my youth for Hebrew Scriptures. . . so the lilt is completely different. I went on to advanced work in the field and while my world there was more about pulling apart time-lines and language patterns with all the trappings and fixations that come redaction criticism, still the text would slip into my subconsciousness. The effect is the same. These words haunt me. They seep into my pores. They are often the lens through which I view my world. Words about Justice. Words about mercy. Words that advocate for those who have no voice of their own. Prophets and sages, seekers of wisdom writing to an audience that could not hear them. They suffered from reader-response too, with consequences far more dire.
And even still, the Apostle Paul is as likely to come tumbling from my lips as some unnamed Deuteronimistic Sage.
I can’t shake it. And I don’t really want to. These words, that haunt me in the best of ways, are companions that hold me close. They sustain me. Words that nourish and feed and give hope.
Which leads me to you, dear reader. I’m guessing you weren’t memorizing large swaths of the New Testament as a child. . . but I’m sure there are words that you turn to, words that get you through, words that express your joy or sorrow or fear or awe of life. I must confess, I’m more than just a little curious about the words that sustain you.
I would be remiss to write a wordy post without giving you some of these words that walk with me. So, I will leave you with the words that have been with me this week.
Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. ~~ The Apostle Paul to the Church in Phillipi
We had such different childhoods and experiences. Thank you for sharing yours with me.
I don’t suppose my tendency to start singing my parents’ old hippie music is at all the same thing? Peter, Paul, and Mary though . . . you gotta wonder.
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No, actually, I think it very much is the same thing. In fact, I toyed with the other post in my head, and writing it first. There is a reason most of my titles this week have been song lyrics. I suspect music gets into us the same way great words do–if you pair that music with an amazing lyric, it’s going to stay forever. 😀 ~W
Thanks for this post. I so can relate! I don’t understand how the King James Bible is what we were compelled to memorize. As if it is somehow more Holy. Anyway, my memorization madness brought this one to mind…
1Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual[a] act of worship. 2Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.
3For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.
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Oh, geeze…I forget we have this common. 😀 And, that Paul is insidious. 😀 I’m going to leave you alone about all the gender language abused in that passage. Stupid personal pronouns… CRINGE. ~W
Oh, and by the way – it isn’t Christianity. It is Paulianity… ok let the dark clouds assemble – prepare for lightening strikes…
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Oh, dear, you’re in the mood to stir a pot. At this point, nobody will leave me lovely poetry or song lyrics in the comment box. I should go write something fluffy as a diversion tactic. ~W
Oh I’m sorry. If you have any readers left.. after my scripture quote – they all have my apology…
I couldn’t help myself… it was like a kneejerk response. Quick – John 3:16. See – you can’t help it. I was raised Southern Baptist – ya don’t get much more ‘Bible thumpin’ than that.
Of course that was then and this is now. Now I’m a flaming Methodist Progressive Christian religiously liberal nut job…
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Heh. Sing with me. ~W
I wish I had memorized ANY scripture. I’m Catholic, and we are notoriously unversed. It’s not too late for me, is it? Also, I am always slightly amused when I remember than Evangelicals think that Catholics are going to hell. We are damn Papists!
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This was a big deal for me, as my best friend growing up was a Catholic. Of course, her family thought my soul was in mortal danger, too, so it all equaled out. And for the record… it wasn’t just the Catholics either. Presbyterians and Methodist and Lutherans, and just about anyone NOT Evangelical. (we liked the Baptists for some reason.) One of our ministers was a former Presby and boy, did he have an opinion about them. You can imagine the irony, at least in my own head, that I graduated from both Methodist and Presbyterian schools. Ha ha ha ha. ~W
So, you didn’t memorize Scripture. . . . surely you memorized something. Right?
I never memorized any Scripture growing up, either, Miz S (Catholic, as well… but in a religiously un-scarring way 🙂 ). I do like the idea of having it ‘inside you’ lest the ability to read or practice freely be taken away. I wish my mind would go to these things… that are true… rather than the mess of recordings that ARE in my brain: Chevy over Ford, your face is too skinny, you can’t please all the people all the time blah blah blah.
But it is, as you point out, important to THINK. And we have loved our study of the old language and hidden Old Testament commentaries… all which bring things into a different light and more accurate context. All which make you think.
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I always wanted to be Catholic. And it worried my mother, who thought I’d become a nun. I liked the pageantry and the ritual and the significance it all seemed to have. There was something so. . . transcendent about the idea of the Eucharist that I didn’t experience at Communion. Not that I was running around taking communion in Catholic Churches as that’s verboten. But I liked the idea, anyhow.
Later in life I would realize that while I consider myself a Papist, I spent too much time on the other side of the aisle to ever become immersed. Methodism is a soft center. I live there. A Catholic in my mindset, a *cough* Protestant in practice. Besides, really, Henry VIII crafted a revolution not a reformation.
I’m not sure why I wrote all this, now. 😀
I like this post, so much so that I decided to post a longer reply on my own blog today.
Words from my youth: “Do It Right the First Time”, and “If You Have a Problem, Fix It”.
Words from my adulthood (decidedly more spiritual, since I converted to my faith at 19) include the scripture you quoted from Paul. In my religion, we have what we call our 13 Articles of Faith*, which provide a basic outline of what we believe. Paul’s good counsel is included there. But I’m not at all a scriptorian, so most of the words that come back to heal and comfort me come from hymns.
(*I’m absolutely not proselyting here, just giving some reference)
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No, no, there is room here. I believe that. And I appreciate you’re giving me the words that sustain you. I really do wonder. Because words have so greatly changed my perspectives over time, and I cherish so many. Not just Scripture, although I directly attribute my love affair with words to my early exposure to Scripture. Anyhow, thank you. And for the record… You and I are practicing #11 right here, and right now. The divine would be pleased, I think. 😀 ~W
I went to Baptist school but only til 3rd grade, and occasionally went to Catholic church (yeah, we were there, sitting in someone else’s pew on Easter and Christmas). When I got married, my darling husband introduced me to the Bible. The rest is history. I remember memorizing scripture in school, but I can’t pull it up out of my brain whenever I want to. My childhood was pretty crazy and my brain, for whatever reason, has decided to delete a lot of it (I wasn’t abused, just too much drama). I think one can be too religious. And I find that most people who are have a HUGE log sticking out of their eye. I just think “whatevah”. 🙂 Thanks for the thought provoking post. And, by the way, I think Paul was cool. I hope you don’t hold that against me! 🙂 tee hee
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Heh, I won’t hold Paul against you. 😀 And my issues with Paul are really with his interpreters, not the man himself. I mean, he did write the most beautiful definition I know of the word love:
“Love is patient; love is kind
and envies no one.
Love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude;
never selfish, not quick to take offense.
There is nothing love cannot face;
there is no limit to its faith,
its hope, and endurance.
In a word, there are three things
that last forever: faith, hope, and love;
but the greatest of them all is love.”
My version of “quoting the Bible” is saying “Isn’t there something, somewhere in the Bible that says (blah, blah, blah)”
I knew there was a reason I was terrified to meet your parents 😀
Honestly, I think I have an aversion to memorizing Scripture… I am not positive I could even give you John 3:16, but I know the gist of it 🙂 I think that comes from a childhood where my dad used to get mad at those “crazy born-again Bible-thumpers trying to make everyone agree with them”… and now he’s a Southern Baptist…
I don’t know if this is just because the Superbowl is “in the air”, but when I was growing up the NFL was our church and the Washington Redskins was our god. So there is something especially giddy, hopeful, exciting about talking football. Honestly, I know very little, but I get so excited nonetheless 🙂
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Oh well, no worries. I could never keep “addresses” straight. So, while I knew the words, the numbers killed me. So, “somewhere in the Bible” speaks to me too.
I have no words about football. Of course, if you want to talk Hockey, I’m all over that! 😀 ~W
I tried to read the Bible and got stuck in the begets part. (too many names!) I wish I knew as much about scripture as some people–but am not a literalist, so I can like parts of it, and raise my eyebrows at other sections. Hope you’ve been doing well; we are in Southern CA and it’s been a crazy week, weather-wise, grading and getting ready for this trip. Next week I’ll return to my “normal” life, I hope!!
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Well, it’s a bit of misnomer that the text should be read literally—or that most of it is, even in the most conservative sects. It’s not. NOR was it intended to be read as “history” but I digress. 😀 Have fun in the sun. 😀 ~W
Thanks for little window into your love of words. With my memory hang ups, or the lack there of my mind mixes songs and Bible verses together and lots of my reinforcements come charging in very mixed up to say the least. One of the things I remember best of you and Mark growing up is my ______ and you saying Mom we heard that one already, you can come down off your soap box. Words ….I have them only they come out of my mouth at the most inopportune times, and like the written ones you cant take them back. Yuck I am getting morose I must STOP or I will be up on that old box again.
Mom
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It’s funny… because while that story gets told, I don’t have any memory of telling you to get off your soap box. Perhaps you weren’t up on it as often as you get blamed for?? 😀 ~W
Nice to know! The thing is I still have a soap box, I am just more aware of when I start in and am able to stop sooner, that and Spanish does hinder me just a little.
Mom
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You get a worse rap than you deserve… dad on the other hand. ha h aha hah. Ahem. I have this fantasy that someday I will be fluent enough in French that I can get on my soap box and go off… as my language gets a bit, uh, peppered when I’m ranting. The boy just rolls his eyes at me now. I’m thinking being able to “preach” in another language would serve us all! 😀 ~W