Blogger Challenge Day 5: Suicidal Ideation

The challenge issued for today's post is to describe a time in my life when I considered suicide. While there were dark moments in my teen years and some pretty intense, but short-lived, depressive moments following my divorce, I can't say that I've ever ventured too close to the kind of dismay and emotional devastation that leads to a consideration of suicide. Beyond that, I was raised Catholic. I was indoctrinated into Catholic guilt at a young age, and no self-preservational Catholic would ever move a pinky toe towards suicide.  Avoiding the wrath of God, the archangels, and the Blessed Virgin is a top priority. I won't wade here into the deep waters of whether those who commit suicide are admitted to heaven, but suffice it to say, I've never been remotely willing to take the chance that they are not. :)

But as I consider the kind of emptiness and despair that leads to thoughts of suicide, I am struck by the realization that there is more than one kind of suicide. Those who end their lives do so primarily to put an end to intense emotional pain but also because they have resigned themselves to a way of thinking that they cannot navigate themselves out of - the deep and profound belief that there is nothing worth living for and no greater purpose to their lives. Psychologists refer to this mindset as suicidal ideation.

I have watched a number of television programs over the last few months that focus on quantum physics and the origins of the universe, primarily because my teenage son has a fascination with science and physics and I want to help guide his thinking (where I can) around issues related to creation and evolution. A number of scientists of our day, most notably Stephen Hawking, are making bold proclamations about the creation of the universe. Hawking recently caused shockwaves in the scientific and theological communities when he postulated that the universe could easily have evolved on its own without the purposeful intent of a divine hand. With apologies to the faith community, Hawking stated that he had seen nothing to confirm the existence of God and, conversely, had found sufficient scientific justification to suggest the universe simply created itself.

I consider this a suicidal ideation.

By definition, suicide is the "act of an organism intentionally causing its own death." What, then, must I conclude of scientists like Hawking and those who use his scientific theories to justify atheism? Even if Hawking is correct - that we exist as the result of a random outcome of quantum physics - then we truly have no reason to exist, there are no moral absolutes, and death will be the end of all of us. Talk about emptiness and despair! Seriously, why not just check out now? But, if the God of the Universe in whom I have put my faith truly does exist, then atheism is the ultimate suicidal ideation.  For those who embrace it, death will truly be the final outcome, and whatever years they have put in on earth will be a vapor. In my mind, atheism is a lose-lose proposition.  And for the life of me, I can't figure out why anyone would chose it. There is nothing in Hawking's brilliant quantum theories that explains why we exist, nor do they compel people toward kindness, goodness, or foregivness. By whittling the existence of humanity down to irrefutable physical laws and mathematical formulae, Hawking has sucked the very life out of life. What need have we of hope, the most self-preservational of all human emotions if, in the end, there is nothing?

Suicide is the very antithesis of hope.

-Lea

Blogger Challenge Day 4: My Views on "Religion"

Definition of Religion

1 a : the state of a religious <a nun in her 20th year of religion>

   b (1) : the service and worship of God or the supernatural

      (2) : commitment or devotion to religious faith or observance

2: a personal set or institutionalized system of religious attitudes, beliefs, and practices

3  archaic : scrupulous conformity : conscientiousness

4: a cause, principle, or system of beliefs held to with ardor and faith

There are many definitions of "religion" and you'd certainly get a different perspective on this word depending on whom you ask. Of those offered by Merriam-Webster (above), I prefer the last one. I particularly love the words "cause" and "ardor" referenced here.

There was a time in my early walk with God that I would have shunned the word "religion" and told you emphatically that I wasn't religious. I was spiritual (as though making that distinction somehow conveyed a more appealing version of my approach to faith). Having been raised in the Catholic Church, where the concept of religious observance is often taken to ritualistic extremes, I began my journey as a born-again believer with a strong desire to throw off the imposing weight of religious observances and proceed instead under the yolk of freedom that is found in a personal, relational connection to Christ. I had spent years in Catholic school reciting monotone prayers, sitting through uninspired but well-memorized responses required to participate in the "liturgy" of the Catholic mass, and participating in a year-long stream of seemingly archaic rituals related to the rosary, reconciliation, the stations of the cross, and the sacraments.  In my mind, the dense layers of ritual that had been piled onto the Catholic faith were in stark contrast to the simple and straightforward life of Jesus and the New Testament believers of the early church. And if that was "religion," I wanted no part of it.

Over the years, I have vigorously nodded my head to more than one statement on the part of an evangelical pastor on the subject of religion. My own pastor has frequently taught me that "Christ did not come to establish religion. He came to establish relationship." The rituals and practices of the modern church, both those of the liturgical denominations and those of the evangelical denominations, represent the attempts of man to place structure and law around that relationship. While that structure undoubtedly lends depth and scope to the corporate expression of the Body of Christ, those rules and doctrines have brought with them inarguable division and condemnation in the church. And it is that same zeal for putting God in a box and condemning those who fall outside of it that has driven people out of God's House rather than drawing them into it and has resulted in an almost global public sentiment that the Christian "religion" is filled with judgmental, intolerant, and self-righteous hypocrits. This is a far cry from the character and nature of Jesus we see in the Gospels nor the beauty and simplicity of the Sermon on the Mount.  It's the very reason that nonbelievers visibly shudder at the mere mention of "religion."

Yet, when I look at the definition of religion above and, even more powerfully, the definition of religious (manifesting faithful devotion to an acknowledged deity), it gives me pause.  In general speech, we will often use this term to describe someone's commitment to an action or activity (He goes to the gym religiously). There is no negative connotation here. The word is not used to imply an imposing or convicting standard. Rather, the word here is used to describe someone who is so committed to exercise that he makes it a priority, rarely misses it, and has manifested that commitment to such a degree that it is evident to others. That sounds very much like devotion. Have I stumbled upon the true identity of "religion" here?

Last semester in Celebration Sisterhood, we spent a lot of time looking at the inarguably "religious" lives of the Jewish rabbis at the time of Christ - the commitment to biblical study, to prayer, to community, and to relationships. We saw evident in the life of a rabbi and his followers the very essence of discipleship, what it means to be a devout follower of Christ. In that day, a rabbinical disciple would have welcomed the description of "religious," as a confirmation that his devotion to God and to his faith were evident to others.  It was into this deep water of devotion that Christ waded when cautioning the religious leaders of his day against legalism. It is when religious devotion ventures away from relationship and into legalism that they, and we, can allow it all to go terribly awry.

This is where that word "ardor" comes in from the Webster definition above. Religious devotion cannot just come from a faithful commitment. It must be tempered with the ardor (love) of a heart that is connected in relationship to God. Faithful commitment without relationship becomes a meaningless ritual. In that sense, religion isn't a summation of rules and beliefs associated with a particular group (Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, etc.).  It isn't what I believe in my mind.  It is what I am committed to in my heart and what is manifested in my life.  Religious, then, is just another word for faithful.

So if you ask me now if I am religious, my response will be: 

 I am trying to be. I am definitely trying to be.

-Lea

Blogger Challenge Day 3: My Views on Drugs and Alcohol

Wow. Nothing like a can of worms being thrust into your hands. I was tempted to skip or modify this day 3 topic because this isn't a soapbox or ministry issue for me. But this wouldn't be a blogger "challenge" if I treated it like a buffet and selected only the challenge topics I wanted to write about. And truly there so much spiritual "angst" in the modern church over the subject of alcohol that I should welcome the leadership opportunity to drill down on it, right?  We'll see. 

For many Christians the immediate answer would be, "Drugs and alchohol are bad! Just say no!"  But obviously the issue of "drugs" is more complex than that. First, pinning down the definition of a drug or identifying what is and is not a drug is a whole lot harder than it might appear. Clearly we have some guidelines from the FDA on what constitutes a legal vs. illegal substance, and of the legal substances, which must be prescribed by a licensed clinician. Trying to apply a strict approach to the subject of drugs would lead you down the narrow path of assuming that legality alone should shape your views about drugs. I've observed more than a few Christians condemn someone for smoking pot (because it's illegal) while clearly addicted to prescribed medications for chronic pain. I think we also have to be much more aware of the dynamics of addictive behavior and recognize that the word "drug" in its strictest sense - ie, something that has the ability to physiologically alter the body - goes way beyond medications.

While I would unequivocally land on the side of the argument that suggests illegal drugs have been deemed illegal for a reason and you should avoid them if for no other reason than civic responsibility to obey the law, it takes some intuitive critical thinking to move beyond legalism and recognize that we're often focusing on the wrong thing.  Regardless of legality, you would be hard pressed to convince me that person who occasionally smokes marijuana is somehow more "wrong" than the college student who is relying on Red Bull to stay awake in class every day or the husband who is addicted to online poker and is secretly emptying his savings account to support his habit at the expense of his marriage. Only one of those three things is illegal, but we could well debate which of those three represents truly addictive and/or harmful behavior.

We all have a drug or drugs of some kind. Food. Shopping. Gambling. Videogames. Sports. Television. Sex. Gossip. Smoking. Pills. Alcohol. Coffee. Exercise. Facebook. Tattoos. Excessive organization (had to throw that one in there for my husband). You name it. Whatever that new hobby or preoccupation is that has captured your attention. We consume these "drugs" because they generate a rush, a thrill, or a sense of pleasure. But none of those is inherently good or bad, right or wrong. Certainly some of them, like pills, smoking, and alcohol carry a greater social stigma, especially in the church, because they represent the potential for the most harmful abuses and behaviors, but that doesn't mean they are always harmful or that the other things on the list aren't worth worrying about. 

There are a lot of Christians and churches out there still operating under a very oppressive and legalistic mindset when it comes to this topic. It's as though there is a decree nailed to the front door of the church with a list of vices that will not be tolerated, and if you engage in them, there will be an immediate presumption that you are either backslidden, living in sin, or not a "true" believer. Don't you dare read that Harry Potter book or have a glass of champagne at your sister's wedding. And you better hide that nicotine patch you put on before church because you don't want anyone questioning your faith if they suddenly discover you're struggling to quit smoking.

I personally believe that it is this puritanical approach to governing the church that has driven people out of it and shaped resentment in the hearts of those who mistakenly assume that God demands perfection before you can ever set foot in His House.  And it warps the sensitivity of the church leader who zeros in on the guy who lit up a cigarette last week in the church parking lot while completely ignoring the church elder whose 300-pound weight is a far more immediate and critical issue. Even in my own church, where we strive for a connection to each other that is free of legalism and condemnation, I have still heard more than one critical statement made about a church member who was seen drinking a glass of wine at a dinner party or family gathering.  And all because the person who saw it was looking through a lense shaped by legalistic indoctrination and not by a true consideration for whether the behavior they witnessed was worrisome or represented a change in that church member's devotion or behavior.  And how can we possibly justify a criticism about someone drinking alcohol when uttered by a gossiping and divisive tongue? I'd personally point to the latter is the more insidious and worrisome behavior.

Some say, "Love the sinner and hate the sin." Many Christians assume this saying comes from the Bible.  It doesn't.  Actually, it's not anywhere in the Bible.  The problem with this statement is that it gives us permission to have an elitist and hateful mindset.  We're all sinners.  That's a given. It's rather arrogant to even adopt a "love the sinner" mentality because it labels the other person in a hypocritical way.  Why not just love the person?  And I'm a personal believer that if God is love and He commands us to love, then "hate" shouldn't even be in our vocabulary.  In fact we should flee that feeling as swiftly as we flee sin.

Okay, that's my 2 cents on drugs, alcohol, and the prevailing mindset of the church.  I welcome your thoughts. :)

-Lea