My Thoughts on Faith and Liberalism

This post is about faith. I am writing it on a Saturday so that when my 4 faithful readers return to work on Monday, they will not find this very serious story, but a funny anecdote about house cleaning, which I plan to write tomorrow. I would try to write it today, but Netflix provided me with Empire of the Sun (Did you know Ben Stiller was in that movie?) and The Power of One for my weekend entertainment. To be funny during such cinematic fare would require either more talent or callousness than I possess.

Last Wednesday, my fundamentalist Christian friend and I were discussing an episode of House in which a 12 year old girl had an abortion. I mentioned that I agree with the law that emancipates a pregnant teenager so that she may make her own decisions regarding pregnancy. My friend gave me the usually disappointed look that always accompanies any political statement that I make which contradicts the Christian Right.

The actual genesis of my liberal politics began in youth, but its culmination came one night during a particularly difficult period of my life. So many things had gone wrong. I felt exhausted by the need to cope with it all. I told a therapist during that time that my life had become a series of hallways leading to a hidden library. Each hallway was its own group of reactions. For every situation, I walked a specific hallway, knowing exactly how to respond to every stimulus. My real self, however, lived in the hidden library, silently seething over the path my life had taken.

One night, I attempted to drive the canyon road separating Ogden and Logan to attend an important meeting and fulfill yet another requirement in my outwardly perfect life. The snow fell softly at first but as I entered the more dangerous part of the canyon, the flurry turned to white-out and I found myself unable to progress.

Rage flowed from my finger tips to the top of my head as I pulled to the side of the road. All the recent sadness, disillusion, and frustration expressed themselves in that moment. I beat on the steering wheel in a full temper tantrum while visions of the past several years flooded my awareness.

After a few moments of undirected anger, I grew a little cold when the thought came that I should pray for help. I laughed and said, "I will not turn to you." Then I unleashed a tirade of charges against my god. I ended with the announcement, "I am so angry with you." In the cold, dead winter night, silence finds its meaning. I sat in my car, feeling truly alone.

Although I expect no one to ever believe me, as I sat there hating the universe, I felt something else come into the car. In my head, I heard a voice that I don't use for self-narrative ask, "Are you done?"

"No. I'm very angry." I said out loud to the no one sitting in the passenger seat.

"I know," replied the voice. "And you will be for some time. It's okay. You need to be angry. I'll be here when you're ready."

I was about to unleash another furious litany when I felt the presence disappear. At that moment, red and blue lights flashed by me. The officer indicated for me to follow him for safe passage through the canyon.

I followed the police car through the blur of tears and snow. I wasn't less angry, but more in awe. The metaphor not lost on me, I wondered at whether God existed and if he were actually guiding me as carefully as the officer in my physical world.

This may not seem to have much to do with liberal politics, but it shaped the way I saw my practice of religion and thus the world. I had felt no judgment from what I have chosen to label deity, so I have never felt worthy to pass it to others. As with all people, I have prejudices and bigotry that require effort to erase, but I could never legislate my beliefs. My choice in how to behave, what to embrace, and where to turn for comfort are mine alone. If someone wants to know more, then they may ask, but I could not imagine forcing my choices on other people.

That feeling of nonjudgment has led me to form some very liberal beliefs. My heart ached the day I saw the woman shut out from her partner's daughter's hospital room because our state didn't recognize her as a parent. I am pro-choice because I don't know what's right for every woman in every situation; I choose strict separation of church and state, and could not attend any church that didn't support that ideal (Off topic: Ben Stiller is wigging me out. Everytime I see him I can't figure out if this movie is a comedy or a drama!); and I think every child should receive health care and education, regardless of socioeconomic status, country of birth, or likelihood of contribution to society. I like to pay my taxes because it means that Idaho will continue to be forced into providing special education and that Utah will be forced to have a welfare program.

One of the leaders of my church taught, "Teach the people true principles and let them govern themselves." That's what I believe, and it's what my vote supports.