That's Me in the Spotlight, Losing My Religion

[At the risk of offending essentially everyone, I present my SecThurs post for this week.]

I was raised Southern Baptist.

I want everyone to stop, and read that again. Please understand: I was raised Southern Baptist. I was brought up on a steady diet of personal relationships with Jesus, Bible stories, and priesthood of the believer. Scots-Irish to the end, I grew up believing in God and also believing that no one had the right to tell me what to believe about God.

I also was brought up knowing that Jimmy Carter was a Southern Baptist. Insult just about everyone else in the world and I'll let it slide, but don't insult Jimmy Carter in front of me.

It wouldn't too be strong a word to say that I felt increasingly betrayed as the '90s proceeded. "Christian Right"? "Religious Right"? But... I was a Christian. I didn't agree with them. In fact, I disagreed with them. Who were they to define what a "Christian" was or was not?

Then the Southern Baptists made their conversion to radicals complete. We were supposed to boycott Disney? The very next Sunday, the pastor at my then-church and the music minister both wore Mickey Mouse ties. Our associate pastor was a woman. I felt safer, again. Sure, the leadership was apparently going crazy, but they weren't every Southern Baptist. Priesthood of the believer! Personal relationship! They couldn't tell me what to believe!

Except, of course, that it was a sham. My church was one of the last oases to be found, I now believe. And increasingly, I've become so disenchanted with those who supposedly share my faith that I no longer claim their religion.

I hate the labels of "Christian Content," because they too often assume that all Christians must think alike, in lockstep. If I don't agree, then I cannot be a Christian. I dislike the churches that preach on politics. If I don't vote Republican, then I cannot be a Christian. I believe in human rights for all, including the right to legal protection for all partnerships (I think the government shouldn't grant marriages, just unions, to everyone). If I don't vote against gay marriage, though, then I must not be a Christian. Evolution is my favorite scientific theory (I think it's tops, better than gravity!). Evolution, though, means you must not be a Christian, so I cannot be a Christian by that definition. If I don't agree with the interpretation of the Bible that leads to submission by women, then I must not be a Christian.

The list goes on and on.

So, eventually, it wears you down. If they don't want me, then fine. I will not claim the label. My relationship with God is just that - mine. And if they want to take the label of Christian and turn it into a litmus test, then so be it. I'll label myself something else when a label is necessary. I know what I believe and I feel more secure in my faith as the years pass. I pray. I study theological issues, the Bible, and early church history. Yet, I won't call myself just a Christian. Do I have mixed feelings about it? Certainly.

There's the crux of the issue. I have mixed feelings about it. I've lost my religion, but never my own (particularly quirky) faith. I can't categorize my faith and would possibly resent being asked to do so. I've been known to label myself as a "really liberal Christian," a "Christopagan," a "strange hybrid Christopagan Deist," and other odd combinations of words. Notice that there's a variation of "Christian" in all of them, though. "Jesus" doesn't combine into words so neatly, and that's the thing. I've never stopped thinking Jesus was the cat's pajamas. Awesomesauce. The bee's knees. Et cetera. For as long as I hold that opinion, I'm going to feel a little put out. A little left out. A little bit curious as to when it became so bad to be an evolutionarily-thinking non-submissive female Christian.