Sunday, March 11, 2007 Estremera: To the spiritual among us By Stella A. Estremera Spider's Web
"And the regular Christian like us, feeling unworthy, slink into a corner, guilty because the last time we attended mass, we fell asleep while the priest was delivering the sermon."
EVERYTIME I get in a tangle with spiritual people -- and boy, there seem to be a lot wanting to preach the Word to me (like they have as one resolved that I have the word "heretic" tattooed on my forehead) -- I get the feeling that we're in this as a contest of spirituality: How many devotionals you make, how many bible studies you have attended, how many retreats you have gone to, how many praises you shout in a day, how many revelations you experienced, how many miracles you experience, how many times you have spoken in tongues... The message that's sent out loud and clear -- complete with closed eyes and nods of what the spiritual describe as acceptance of God's spirit and will, and then yes, that soft tone everyone seems to want to use when talking about God -- is: I got this much God in me, can you beat that?
And the regular Christian like us, feeling unworthy, slink into a corner, guilty because the last time we attended mass, we fell asleep while the priest was delivering the sermon. It's not the priest's fault, after all he has mastered that soft tone of the spiritual and memorized the verses he has chosen to speak about. It's our fault because we fell asleep from boredom. It's the devil in us, the unevolved spirit of the lost, who wants a preacher to breath life into a service instead of just listening to the droning voice of the priest as our way of indulgence.
Woe to us, poor, unfortunate souls.
It's as if the pearly gates are closed to those who refuse to shout "Alleluia!" and raise their hands in supplication.
It's as if a requirement for anyone to even knock on those gates (or even ponder on climbing up the stairs) is to first learn how to shut your eyes really tight while swaying with the crowd or mastered and understand the Latin chants.
It's as if you don't make the grade if you haven't cried buckets of tears in a gym full of people all singing praises or completed all Simbang Gabi all throughout your lives.
It's as if when dealing with God, everything you do must be overboard. And that's where they usually lose me (and observing other people, a lot of others like me)...
It, thus, makes me ask why the spiritual among us are saying that the God they are preaching about should be a personal God and yet insist that everyone do the believing and communicating their way. Well, excuse me, but when everything is done the way someone dictates it so, then it's not personal, it's communal.
So go forth and preach your communal god, because what I have is personal.
I talk to Him every time when everyone else is asleep. I go out at past midnight and just watch the sky and talk. But no, I don't call it devotional, meditation, or whatever the claiming to be spiritual among us would like to call it. I call it... talking.
I also badger Him every time I'm caught in traffic and am already late for an appointment, when it's already very late at night but there's no taxi to be seen anywhere, when I'm stuck in the rain and wanting to go home already. I call it badgering and I know to whom I'm talking to. Plain talk, with corresponding thank yous and congratulatory words along the line of "ang galing mo talaga, thank you ha!"
For really difficult tasks, there are the real prayers as we know it complete with the ending of "through Christ our Lord", the novenas, the quiet time, and the crying time in the dark of the night, alone. That's okay with me, and I'm comfortable with it. And when those small miracles happen, I talk about it to friends and even write about it, my way of spreading the word, I guess. But no, I don't shout "Alleluia!" to emphasize any point in my story.
Why? Because it's not me, and no way will I talk about my God in pretense.
Now, if it's your style to shout and sway and stomp and sing then by all means, do it... that's you, not me, do it your way but don't impose that way on me because... that's you, not me... (repeat over and over ad nauseum).
Maybe I will listen to you as you stomp, and shout, and sing because I want to, but at other times maybe I will not because maybe I'm not in the mood for it. But do not expect me to be like you. Because... that's you, not me.
Maybe at times I will sing joyously with you or even by my self, because I'm feeling joyous and the song of praise fits what I'm feeling. But don't expect me to sing joyously every time and sing only those songs.
Because... that's you, not me.
We're not in a race as to who has more God and who can shout more Alleluiahs. The books on spirituality (including the Bible) point to a personal journey of discovery and enlightenment. So far, I have this much God in me, and that's fine with me. I'm learning to get more, but I'm not about to compare it with yours.
I get to listen to some people's journey as well, and I'm okay with that; I learn, I understand, I appreciate more. I get to share my journey without having to shout and stomp and sing, and that fits me well, too.
I don't want to know how much God you have because that's yours, and I'm not supposed to envy anyone. But if you want to share your stories, your beliefs, and miracles in your life, then share them like you were talking to a friend -- not some preacher come down from some mountain reserved for the very spiritual or someone who's on a personal mission to complete a million retreats in a lifetime because he doesn't want anyone else to have more than he -- and I will willingly listen. Because that's what I want to be, a friend... and that's how I want my God to be, a friend... and I guess that's how a lot of other Christians want their God to be but are feeling unworthy because they do not feel comfortable being like you but are being led to believe that they have to be, by people like you...
And the regular Christians like us, feeling unworthy, slink into a corner, guilty because the last time we attended mass, we fell asleep while the priest was delivering the sermon... (saestremera@yahoo.com)
