For the past several weeks, I have watched on social media as several friends from my past life have dug their heels on various subjects trending at the time. Politics, religious preferences, where to buy things from, what movies to avoid or support because of the overall message, etc.
I have largely kept silent because the farther I am from these things, the easier it is to see...they don't really matter.
At the same time, my heart has been longing for the church experience. Twice in the past week, I have almost turned into my former Catholic Parish parking lot. Not really missing The Church itself, but missing the experience.
While at work, I've contemplated the two. For so many years, they intertwined with each other in my life. You didn't go to church without hearing about politics, religious preferences, where to buy things, what movies to avoid or support because of the overall message. You didn't consider politics, debate religious preferences, go to certain stores, and watch certain movies without considering its impact on you within the church.
The farther I am from the church, the more I see...so many of us had blinders on. So many of us were, as the Bible says, clanging cymbals. Just making unnecessary noise no one really wants to hear. That no one actually asked to hear.
I think about all the time on social media I wasted trying to "convince" others of things I believed made or broke you as a Christian. All the times I became overly passionate about a topic or issue that I contributed nothing towards resolving.
I was a clanging cymbal no one wanted to hear. No one actually asked to hear.
I think about all the years I spent within the church walls. All the times I sat there, not doing much of anything Jesus actually commanded me to do; but doing what the church said was acceptable within my role. My role(as a woman, married, with children) was to pray without ceasing, tend to the little souls for Jesus within my four walls, and to be the best example of Christ I could be where no one "lost" would actually see me...behind the scenes, usually at home and in the church.
I was not to go out into the streets(my children will see things that will cause them to stumble), I was not to debate alone with people of the opposite gender(we might give into lust/we might tarnish the man's reputation!), I was not to really have a thought opposing or questioning rules/laws within the church(I was supposed to bring those to my husband, who, in turn would either answer my questions or shut me up, er, I mean, pray over me that I might understand it better). The going out into the streets to talk to the lost souls, the debating, the pondering, the questioning....those were reserved for the men. The men who usually didn't do it, either, but that's another topic for another day.
I didn't build bridges with anyone by telling them why one political party was better than the rest because "it's as Christian as we can hope for". I didn't covert anyone by sharing long, obnoxious posts on why I loved/hated a movie based on its actual message. I didn't make someone fall in love with my version of Sky Daddy God(*cue massive dry heaving*) by telling them where to shop and what certain types of clothing could convey.
It's so easy to get wrapped up in these things. Especially when you're meeting at least once a week with other members of "the band", just clanking cymbals together.
At each other.
Trying to sound original, but essentially just sounding the same.
However...sometimes I miss the ignorance.
I miss the ability to go inside a building once a week and pour out my heart to someone higher than myself. I miss the illusion that my greatest contribution to Heaven was "actually the greatest" because those with a penis didn't have as much time as I did to pray, to tend to the little ones, to pick up their own nasty boxers off the floor. I dare say, sometimes I miss having someone else think for me. Even though I wasn't always 100% certain they even knew what they were talking about, it was freeing to let the men have the big thoughts while I busied myself nodding like a bobble head and saying "Amen" in agreement to fill the silence of their "heavy" words. I miss not really contemplating an opposing or different view point because it might make me think "this person is also just a human, trying to get through this complicated thing called life as best they can.".
Leaving the church(and also, getting a divorce) has opened my eyes to so much.
I can be a decent human being without an agenda. I can just be a decent human being.
I can love on those who don't think like I do. I could just...love people.
I can help those around me without labelling them less than me or even judging their souls against eternity("It's in the Bible to judge hold others accountable!").
I can think and change my viewpoint without being marked as a hypocrite.
I have the ability to not have the answers, or bullshit my way through pretending I do. I can be honest and say "I don't know" without fearing them going to a fiery afterlife because of it.
I can serve my community alongside people who don't look or think like me without guilt or shame.
I can find places that aren't buildings to pour out my heart, to hear silence.
I don't have to hear a man's voice or soothe his ego as he mansplains something to me. I can just walk away or even say "I'm glad you're passionate about that topic, but I really could care less".
But with these realizations comes the heavy burden. Sometimes, it feels like too much.
I can help, I can love, I can think, I can serve.
I can actually move to action.
I'm no longer confined to a role or a narrow list of expectations.
Have you seen the Disney movie "Tangled"? Do you recall when Rapunzel finally left the tower? How she went back and forth between the wonderful feeling of being free and the agonizing dread of realizing she left all she's ever known for several minutes as Flynn just sort of sat in the background and...let her?
That's what this season feels like.
I realize I have no confines! But at the same time....I have nothing confining me.
I have no restrictions...but yet, I am not restricted.
I can't go back...but yet, I am leaving everything I've ever known.
I have no building, no hierarchy of men(and, the illusion of older women) telling me what to think, what to do, how to dress. Who to support, where to shop, how to love.
Who do I nod my head to now? Why do I miss nodding my head at all?
Sometimes, I miss the sound of identical cymbals.
The delusion that I was a unique and integral part of the band of Heaven. Making a sound no one else could imitate.
Only to realize I was nothing more than a clanging cymbal.
Making the same noises as everyone else.
Making noises no one asked for.
Making sounds no one actually wanted to hear.
I'm no longer a clanging cymbal.
I don't know exactly what I am, and I'm okay with not knowing. I'm okay with not putting a firm label on myself, not making myself out to be a singular instrument.
...Most days, most of the time.
