I wish I were more religious, in the genuine way

I wish I was more religious. Truly, that would make me happy, or at least content. Why? Because it is a beautiful thing. Now, I’m not talking about the kind of thing practiced by medieval lords or a faith that consists of simply habits or rules. That’s not what I mean. I talking about the stuff that makes me look at people with extremely forgetfull eyes that pierce skemeas and expectations so they see whats actually there. Hands that spend more time holding other peoples troubles then they do clenched. You know, like lending a couple hours to a single mom or giving a minimal sum of cash so some kid in a picture will stop looking weird with that bloated belly and skinny limbs. The stuff that changes the world through sacrifice, forgettfull forgiving, love that acts (not feels), and ultimately a church that looks a little bit more like Jesus. I am a big fan of that guy. He tends to ignore how much of a moron I am, and how excellent at displaying my faults I can be (though I do want to point out that He is in fact my architect, so I feel like he should accept at least some of the responsibility for how often I fall short). The guy made some good alcohol, spent a whole lot of time with hookers, befriended high school drop outs (those would be some of the first 12 apostles), and told certain religious leaders where they could put their hypocritical attempts at worship and spiritual instruction. He also was at least BA enough to make his own whip and clear an entire temple with it. Ultimately, Jesus was nothing like what people thought he would be. And I imagine hes quite a bit different than who I think he is. But I do know that Jesus was very religious. He observed Jewish customs, since he was after all a Jew, and followed the commandments that we read (or more likely skip over) from the Old Testament (which was the only part of the Bible in His day). When he prayed, he covered his head in a prayer showel. When it came time for a religious feast, he participated. And when it came time for him to step up as the biggest skape goat ever, he did it. Why? Because he was religious, and because he had this crazy thing called love for people that I realy don’t get (probably because I was an Resident assistant in college and worked retail for a while. Those are two great jobs to have if you want to see how much people suck at being kind, or at least polite). His prayer in Gethsane was both a personal conversation with His (and by adoption our) father and an act of religious devotion to His God (and by choice, mine). The two work together. See, when I say religious you think judgemenal, or see an angry nun, or a bunch of rules, or whatever. I see me and Jesus sitting down for Coffee or a beer and talking about my life. And I also picture me flat on my face crying and sobbing as I pray alone in my room. I think of buying Richard, an 40 some year old hblack guy I met once who was homeless, dinner. Or Sarah the cookie lady who dedicated her life to helping young men get off the street, and often gave them wonderfully made chocolate chip cookies. I sometimes think of my Granma, who I call Nana. She is religious. She prays when she wakes up and only ends up getting sleep because it interrupts her bedtime prayers. She is strong, she is kind, and loves better by how she lives than anyone else I know. She is religious because she is dedicated to God’s work and invests herself in the people around her. Nana prays because she trust God to do a better job handling things than her, and that is part of her religion. She talks about Jesus with the same familiarity she would her father, who sang with the voice of an Irish Tenner. The Christian religion to her is practiced by putting your faith in who the Bible says Jesus is, and then going and doing what Christ teaches us to do. Her faith and her religion are one. She understands that servant like devotion to the will of God is religious, and it is part of her life. If we are going to call ourselves Christians, we should at least recognize that this means we have a religion, and that religion is very demanding by todays standards. The weird part about these religious rules though, is that they exist for our benefit, to keep us out of harms way. Kinda like mom making me hold her hand at the zoo, which I hated at the time because I wanted to go hug a lion and couldn’t understand why she was so against me having what I wanted. It was of course because she loved me and didn’t want to see her son get chomped by a massive kitty. Though in my teenage years, I’m thnkfull we didn’t go to the zoo often. It is my hope that I can be part of this emerging generation’s efforts to reclaisom and redeem religion. This is not something we can do on our own, but it is possible. Jesus, after all, has already saved religion once.