Babies and bathwater...

“Can’t we all just get along?”

– Rodney King

I recall her saying, “If it’s written on an outhouse wall, and it’s the truth, then consider it.”

I spent thirty years in a spiritual community in rural Missouri. I haven’t written much about those years in that community, because I suppose (surprisingly), I haven't been inspired to write or say much.

There were two people in leadership positions when I arrived in 1975. A woman named Theora and a man we called Brother Eddie. It was a small group of people living on an acre of land a few miles west of Moberly. At the time, I had just finished the first year of doctoral work in Columbia.

Growing up in a minister’s home was an interesting and profitable experience. My father and mother believed God to be benevolent and loving. I was taught that the scriptures were intended help one grow spiritually. They were taught in the context of love and edification. As a result, I had a strong affection for them.

After leaving home, I came to appreciate, in the broadest of brush strokes, that my experience was fairly unique.  I discovered that while most churches taught the love of God; they also taught that being unfaithful to Him would bring severe punishment – one I could not fathom. Damnation for eternity!

In the years, after leaving home as a teenager, I visited many churches and listened to many teachings.  I suppose like most who are seeking to understand, it was confusing to hear so many variations of ideas. In particular, because they were expressed with assurance and a sense of authority that echoed each one's singular belief that theirs was the only path to eternal life. Occasionally, I pointed out that a person existing forever in a burning hell seemed to be a kind of an eternal life. Questions like that were often part of the reason I found myself generally unwelcome.

Over time, I came to believe there were basically two types of churches. Those in which the scriptures were read, but not richly taught. This was not satisfactory for me because I hungered for more understanding. The other were churches that knew and taught the scriptures in depth, but used them as tools for control, filling parishioners with fear and guilt – a total turn-off for me.

And so I pressed forward, spending time in places that varied from free-standing, spirit filled local congregations, to monolithic groups such as Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses. All of them teaching they had the insight to eternity setting them apart from the great unwashed who had, as yet, not accepted their belief systems.

Eventually, I gave up the quest for scriptural understanding, holding on to the 'island of belief' that the God of the universe was more interested in unity than disparity and failure. Whipping the beast into submission; however, heavy-handed or subtly, was much more detrimental than encouraging growth into the unique spiritual creature I so desired to become (if such were possible). It seemed to me that one does not love something (-one), by fearing it (them). This led to jettisoning it all and moving on. 

I would try to live a good life, work hard, be kind to people and do the best I could.  

But wait, there’s more…
As fate would have it, after having made that conscious decision, I heard of a small  spiritual community, called The Word Church. A fellow I met encouraged me to check the place out. In truth, I was not particularly interested, but as has been the case for most of my life, curiosity overcame disinterest, and I found myself visiting the place…a visit that changed the course of my life forever.

As it turned out, these people were a Bible teaching ministry. They taught the scriptures, one-on-one, verse-by-verse, weaving a slow but deliberate fabric of Old and New Testament into the minds of those who chose to study with them.  

I was interested but wary. 

After several church services, I asked the woman whether I might study with them for a couple of years until I finished school. She said, yes, but there was an agreement I would need to make. Here it came – the hook! There was always a hook!

I shut my mind down but listened. "You will need to commit to studying four books of the New Testament with an assigned teacher, before making a decision to continue studying with us,” she said.

She explained, teaching the scriptures in the way they did, took time and resources. One would need to ‘kick the tires’ to know what it took to do this. If after four books, there was still the interest, fine. If not, no harm-no foul. There would be no pressure to continue. The cost? Nothing for the first four books, and if the decision were made to go on, there would still be no financial obligation.

Those two years turned into thirty and provided a foundation of thought, opening my mind to understanding and possibilities I had never imagined. When studying anything that intimately, it becomes a part of the tapestry of your mind. It is not just learning a few verses on a particular subject to be pulled into the argument when defending the faith. Rather, it becomes a living body of knowledge that guides and leads to transcendent growth.

In 2005, the organization began to disassemble. Brother Eddie resigned. He had created no infrastructure of succession, and while there are still remnants, the ‘light’ of the work dimmed. But for me, there was and has been no diminishing.

Alive and well…

I cannot speak for others who participated in this life experiment with The Word Church. For me, it provided an alphabet of spiritual thought that grew into sentences, then paragraphs, and by now a part of the narrative of who I am.

That spiritual community furnished a foundation that permitted me to read thinkers of Eastern and Western philosophy through the lens of spiritual curiosity. It encouraged me to ask questions, and listen to what others thought. Rather than spiritual and structural confinement, it cultivated an openness to pursue that elusive seductress – truth…no matter how it comes.

This brings me back to the quote that started this piece, “If it’s written on an outhouse wall, and it’s the truth, then consider it.”

In spite of this multi-decade quest, I am not certain what spiritual truth precisely is. I have heard and read things in the most unexpected places that have moved my life forward in positive ways…many of which I did not necessarily get in church - most notably tolerance for other people's beliefs. 

Christ said if we knew the truth, it would make us free. By that standard and the extent to which I have learned principles that have made my life freer – I can say this:

- We were made to edify and help one another – no strings

- Whenever possible be kind

- Finding passion leads to purpose
- One receives more in the giving than in the getting

- Accept the sanctity and respect of another’s belief

- Whatever makes someone a better person is profitable to all

- justice for one is justice for all, and injustice for one is injustice for all

It seems like it has taken a long time and a lot of study to come to appreciate the simple ideas my mother taught me as a child – love God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself. She was right, you know.

It HAS taken time to grow these seeds planted by those loving hands. It HAS taken time to weave them from simple expressions, into the living tapestry of my life.

Time...I hope there is enough.

- ted