No Wonder I Don't Want To Be Friends

I'm not "over" the things I write about, in my upbringing.  I don't "know better" than those who raised me, or who still think that way.  I still think that way, all too often.  And I try to face it.

   It's Sunday.  I want to do something for God.  I wanted to watch TV a bit first, and at first I wasn't going to, because I thought "No, I want Sunday to be for God."  And then I remembered how dumb that was.  For "for God" to always and only mean "sacrificing fun."
   I was trained how to "do Sunday" as a kid.  I could do it right now:  Must go to church (even though there is nothing that consistently makes me feel more like Christianity is something for other people than that.  I can be having the greatest connection to Jesus Christ possible, and if I go to a church service, guaranteed, by the end of it, I'm doubting my Christianity.  Because whatever those other folk are just isn't any more what I am than what Mormons are).  Must watch no TV today.  Must read no more chapters from George R.R. Martin and edit no more student work into a book until tomorrow.  Reading the Anne Lamott (Operating Instructions) that I've been alternating chapters with Storm of Swords is fine, because her writing is "kind of Christian."  I must try to feel grateful. I must ask God to forgive me for not feeling more grateful, and to make me feel more grateful.  I must try to make myself more grateful, by talking and acting more grateful and claiming I am more grateful.
    It's quite a time.
   Things is, I recognize the good in sitting by the river at dusk, music on quietly, drinking beer or wine, eating snacks and watching fireflies with a few people, laughing and talking about whatever.  I recognize the good in sitting around with musical instruments and voices, food and drink to hand, playing whatever we like, because we want to.  I recognize the good in talking on the phone to someone who is physically far away, but during that conversation, no one else is closer to either one of you than each other.  I recognize the good in holding a woman.  I recognize the good in dancing with someone you care about.  I recognize the good in holding a baby.  I recognize the good in chocolate cake and quiet conversation, the two of you being the only customers in a cafe that's not going to be open much longer.  I recognize the good in a forest silhouetted against moon and stars, wind blowing through it.

   But there's something I've never moved beyond/grown out of/really learned properly: I know God made all that good stuff.  I know He made us able to enjoy it.  But whenever I imagine spending time with God, or getting close to Him relationally, there is this stupid, unmatching, incongruous assumption deep down that it must, of necessity, involve giving up all of those things, and anything like those things.  I assume He doesn't recognize the good in any of that.  Even though the good in it is obvious.  To me.  I assume that He wants it sacrificed to Him, on His big altar upon which we burn good stuff He's jealous of.  And that's so dumb.  He's not like that at all, is He?

   When I was a kid, no one told me it was okay to go and try to have fun, without worrying about anything.  And I have never managed to learn that lesson, either. Not really.  I have my moments.

    So it's Sunday.  And I want today to be about God in some way.  About connecting with Him. Not about going out to the big building in which we house Him, to sing at Him and then leave, like we've seen a hippopotamus at the zoo, so have proven we love the planet.  I want to be friends.

    But I'm afraid it will be like taking a nutritionist to dinner, a Shakespeare professor to see a movie, like kissing an oral hygienist, like going for a Sunday drive with a driving instructor.  I guess it's no wonder I don't want to be friends.

    I'm assuming that every time I might have been able to be happy in my life, it wasn't Satan, or mean people who ruined it, but God.  Always wanting everything to be deeper and truer and realer and purer. And how could anyone be content, hanging out with Someone like that?  And "content" is something I'm starting to want.  More than ever.

    It's like the bible tells me to rejoice, and then says nothing's good enough for God.  It says God loves me just the way I am, and then life is a positive marathon to get through, trying to be able to handle things and not let go the wheel and not slip up.  And every time I've slipped up, it seemst hat someone's always right there to accuse.  And half the time when I haven't, too.

    So, I know and believe that God is possibly good company, that He'd not ruin a party.  Jesus seems to have provided more wine for one, and doesn't seem to be giving his big ranting speeches at dinner very often.  Seems to tire and want to go off somewhere quiet, or just hang out with a couple of people, and not have to tell the parables and explain everything.  I know all this.  But I don't really get it.

   Church couldn't be less helpful in this.  I've gone to church a lot in my life.  And I've gone to all kinds of different churches in the last year.  The buildings in which we think God is housed.  The human activity we chide people for not paying enough mind to, for not being involved in deeply enough.  But the only time I have felt like I'm in any danger at all of being touched by a friendlier, happier, warmer, acceptinger side of God, it has always and only been sitting down with one or two other people and just being ourselves.  It's happened in bars and in restaurants.  It's happened in cars, sitting, chatting.  It's happened walking around aimlessly.  And not with just anyone.
   Lately it's pointed me repeatedly toward the idea that I need to stop being God's Employee, His Customer Service Representative, His Agent, so much.  I need to hang out more.  Connect.  Not make Him and the bible a series of personal lessons.  Not study or serve Him without relating to Him.  Connection.  That's not easy.  Church certainly never requires it of me.  Most Christians couldn't be less into it.  But I'm going to have to try it.

    I guess we'll see how that goes.