When I Stopped Being Christian

I had been on a decades-long search for "Truth" (with a capital "T"), reading and researching all major (and several minor) world religions.  I've been able to find some truth everywhere I turned, making it increasingly more difficult to choose "the one right path".  I refused to acknowledge that there was no such thing. 

I finally turned to Eastern Orthodox Christianity.  I found a beautiful little church where I periodically attend Saturday vespers, where I stand in the presence of the Divine, surrounded by reminders of the holy, transported to a timeless place by the candlelight and chanting.  I met Father Joshua here, a very approachable priest who is a husband and father of 9!  I started taking Intro to Orthodoxy classes with him and a very small group of other inquirers, most already having committed to conversion.  

I enjoyed these sessions very much.  But what became undeniable thanks to them is that there was an entire ocean of disconnect between what Orthodoxy - and in fact, Christianity in general - teaches and what I actually believe in my heart of hearts.  I so wanted Orthodoxy to be the answer to my prayers.  In a way, it was, but not in the way I expected.  Orthodoxy was like a living history experience, helping me feel closer to the earlier Christians.  As I became convinced that Orthodoxy is probably one of the closest interpretations of Christianity that there is, I likewise became convinced that I could pretend no longer to believe that the Christian myths and legends were literally true.

Actually, depending on whom you ask, you'll learn that literal interpretation is actually besides the point, or at least it can be.  And it is this new understanding that is allowing me to start reconstructing my place within the Christian mythos.  For a long time now, I've said that I find the symbolic understanding of various Christian teachings to be much more relevant and meaningful to me than the literal explanations, but since the symbolic is only ever given any airway as a layer upon the assumed literal, it's hard to have one without the other among other Christians.  

If a Christian is a follower of Christ, and if Christ is the Logos, the Way and the Truth and the Life, then Christ is the Western embodiment of the Tao, and then I can call myself a Christian.  But really, it would be more accurate and less cumbersome to just say I am a cultivator of the Tao (however imperfectly I stumble with that).  Maybe personifying all manner of divine energies does more harm than good, at least for my sense of ... rightness.  My sense of familiarity and comfort is absolutely very much still within the Catholic-Orthodox liturgical church life.  The rituals are meaningful.  The ornamentation is beautiful.  The music can be uplifting (it pretty much is guaranteed to be in the Orthodox church - with the Catholic church, it's hit or miss.)  

But alas, I cannot yoke myself fully to this religious identity, because with it come certain expectations and limitations that I do not find helpful nor necessary.  For this reason, I'm unable to convert to Orthodoxy, as this would be hypocrisy.  But I am able to periodically bask in Orthodoxy's divine beauty as a visitor (thank God they welcome visitors!), while remaining Catholic.  You see, I can't shake being Catholic even if I wanted to.  The Catholic church doesn't seem to care much if I actually believe what it teaches.  It just wants to count me among its adherents.  And since the feeling is sort of mutual, it's a win-win for me.  Contrary to what I used to think, I'm not being a hypocrite if I participate in Catholic ritual with reservations, because there is an overwhelming sense of "God meets you where you are", and this is where I am, so I keep bringing myself as-is to God, and whatever God deems appropriate, God will do regarding my faith journey.  

What I need to do is completely let go of any sense of external validation from fellow Catholics/Christians/believers.  It is not for them that I remain a Catholic.  It is to nourish that of God that resides within me.  I do it for me and I do it for God.  And if ever God decides to lead me elsewhere, I hope I will be strongly tethered at that point to God-the-Truth and not merely God-the-Interpretation, to follow the path laid out in front of me.