I had an epiphany last night. It has really been a long time coming.
I finally figured out what religion I am.
I had been a Congregationalist my whole life, had been very involved with church up until I was about 26 or so. I married an atheist, but he has always been willing to go to church with me. But for some reason, for the past ten years or so, I couldn't really bring myself to go (other than the occasional Christmas and baptizing my oldest daughter in our family's church in Pittsburgh).
And yes, I heard all about that from my family, and how it was disappointing to them that I wasn't going myself or bringing my child to church (or saying grace enough at meals). They tended to combat that with ninja-style commando religion lessons while visiting our home when my husband and I were conveniently occupied elsewhere. Which wasn't so much of a problem until little Cinderella wanted us to pray at every meal and kept talking about how "Jesus is the King." That really made me uncomfortable -- I don't think "uncomfortable" even begins to describe how my husband felt about it.
So I've been trying over the past few months to really put my finger on what I believe. I've been meaning to for such a long time - I miss being part of a church, but there was something keeping me from going, more than just wanting to sleep in on Sundays. And now, living in New England, it's a veritable smorgasbord of Congregational churches, so that's not an excuse either. Now that we have a four-month-old, her baptism is something that's on everyone's (especially my family's) minds.
My husband engaged in some Socratic method with me about my belief system (hey, sometimes it helps to have married a philosophy major), and between that and a visit to a Unitarian service, I have finally crystallized my beliefs.
Jesus is/was the sticking point for me. I don't believe he was the Son of God, so given that, most Christian denominations are really out. And you know what? That's ok. Turns out, there's a whole denomination out there that is okay with that, that celebrates the man and the philosopher and the person who could have been divinely inspired, but not necessarily "divine" himself. Who knew? (Ok, a lot of people. But I didn't.)
I've found that I am a Unitarian Universalist. It fits me. I love the fact that one of its guiding principles is "a free and responsible search for truth and meaning"...not Truth-with-a-capital-T. I love that it strives for social justice and believes in "the inherent worth and dignity of every person." I love that there's room for what I believe and what my husband believes, and that nobody will insert the line "I accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior" into my daughter's baptism (dedication?) even when they promised my husband that he wouldn't have to attest to that, out loud, in front of an entire congregation (that was so not cool). I also love that this church we found has been around for hundreds of years, so I still have the feeling of belonging to history and tradition and a group that is bigger than just myself and what surrounds me now.
(And while I know many Christians who don't frequently profess their faith via social media, I also love that UUs don't cram their beliefs down anyone's throat, or post something laudatory about Jesus on Facebook and taunt "I'm sure 99% of you don't have the guts to repost this." Actually, I don't repost it because I don't AGREE with you -- but that's neither here nor there.)
It feels really good to have that sorted out.
