Still Dreaming

I grew up in southern West Virginia, so as you might expect, I was surrounded by Christian fundamentalism and evangelicalism.  Many of my relatives and neighbors attended small, rural evangelical churches.  Some didn't even seem aware of alternative worldviews, or those alternatives seemed so distant and foreign they weren't viable options.  Many were not particularly religious.  "Unchurched" neighbors were in no way unusual.  But many who weren't churchgoers still bought into evangelicalism.  They saw themselves as "sinners" who were "lost."

As a little boy, I attended a small church near our home with my family.  Like many in my LGBTQ tribe, I could have been harmed even more by the homophobia embedded in evangelicalism if I had continued to be "brought up" in the church.  But my mother had schizophrenia, and when she began acting out in inappropriate ways at church, my father didn't know how to deal with it.  My mother wasn't diagnosed and treated until just a couple of months before I graduated high school.  So, twelve years earlier, we stopped going to church, and Dad was so disheartened that he didn't even try to "witness" or preach to his kids.  My mother's illness provided a kind of buffer.  The disease also provided another out.  I knew I shouldn't believe many of the things she said.  I didn't understand what was going on with her at the time, but I knew she could be "off."  And my hapless father was so overwhelmed.  As a result, I didn't grow up with a strong appreciation or respect for authority.

I was a socially awkward gay boy, a loner, an outsider.  And I became a freethinker.  After seeing the film Close Encounters when I was 12, I became obsessed with the idea that altruistic aliens like those in the movie would take me aboard their spaceship and transport me to a better world.  My hope became an expectation.  Without even realizing what I was doing, I had invented my own religion.  However, I was unable to sustain my belief, but I remained a seeker.  When I attended WVU, I studied religion and philosophy.  I wanted "answers."  I learned about many great ideas, but nothing universally acknowledged or accepted.

Many see a great dichotomy between religion and science.  This idea is strong among LGBTQs.  Many of us have been harmed by organized religion.  Many of us have come up against intransigent homophobic attitudes that are framed as religious beliefs.  And many who claim to be religious are often hostile toward science.  We've all heard the stories of people like Galileo being persecuted by the religious.

However, some would argue that using religion to justify persecution is an abuse of religion.  Paul Tillich was one of the thinkers I studied in my younger days, and he spoke of "the God behind God."  He meant that we have our ideas of God, and our human institutions are founded on those ideas.  But the God we seek is beyond our capacity to fully understand.  To treat someone as an enemy simply because they challenge your concept of God is to make an idol of your own thoughts.  Neti neti is a Sanskrit expression found in the Upanishads, meaning "not this, not that."  Annie Dillard said in her book The Pilgrim at Tinker Creek that whatever you say about God is untrue because we can only know creaturely habits which do not apply to God.

Evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould wrote about something he called non-overlapping magisteria.  He claimed science deals with the empirical realm.  It uncovers facts about the universe and develops theories based on those facts.  Religion, on the other hand, deals with meaning and moral value.  At their roots, one has nothing to do with the other.

Science is many things, but it isn't a philosophy of life.  Some might want it to be, and some might try to turn it into one, but that's scientism, not science.  Margaret Atwood has written some dark stories about the future, sometimes classified as science fiction.  In these stories, technology in the hands of bad actors can have devastating results.  In her book Burning Questions, she says she is sometimes asked if she has a dim view of science.  She insists she does not and claims science is a tool like a hammer.  You can use a hammer to build a house, or you can use it to kill your neighbor.

So what was I doing when, as a middle school boy, I was looking up at the sky and dreaming of little gray men coming to my rescue?  I was seeking meaning, purpose, a sense of belonging, love, and hope.

Many of us are discouraged.  The news is depressing.  Some of us are getting older.  We have more years behind us than ahead.  Some of us are dealing with health issues.  Many of us are grieving for family, friends, and furry companions.  Like many of us, I need more than a hammer or the Big Bang Theory to get me through.  I'm still a seeker.  I'm still looking at the stars and hoping a better way is out there.  I'm still dreaming.