Church

This morning, I attended Sunday school for the first time in nearly 20 years.

I did so at the behest of our children. Their father, and I mean that only in the most technical sense, went to jail sometime this week for beating their mother and putting her in the hospital as well as striking one of the girls hard enough to crack a rib. As terrible an act as that was, it’s tough stuff for children of eight, 10, and 12 years of age to take in. They may have lived in fear of him, but they also loved him as children should love their father.

I went to church with them not as their father, but to be a good daddy. Jordan, the youngest, thought that I was ashamed of him and his siblings. He can’t understand why I wouldn’t want to go to church like everyone else. As such, any effort to explain my blending of the teliological argument with agnosticism would likely be met with blank stares and confusion.

I believe the complexity of the universe proves the existence of a divine creator, but don’t believe that creator plays an active role in our lives. The agnostic pragmatist in me prevents my blind faith in the divinity and resurrection of Jesus.

Speaking of Jesus, he was a great teacher whose lessons, in general, are vital to humanity’s survival. The same could be said of the teachings of Buddha and others too.

Funny story. Julie has been going to churches off and on during the years I’ve remained absent from those hallowed halls. In fact, she’s attended that same church where we both grew up and our parents still attend regularly.

We get into the Sunday school class and I’m still on the attendance roster. I haven’t been there during this millennium yet they still have a record of me. Julie got to fill out a visitor card. The irony cracked me up.

Good points were made during the lessons in Sunday school and church, but they were common sense points as far as I’m concerned. My basic beliefs are to try to make the “right” decisions and to be good to others.

Some points didn’t make much sense to me. I’m not ready to look up at the sky to profess my inability to function without divine assistance. I do have the feeling that “everything will be OK,” and that is probably a product of my Christian upbringing, but I’ve never really associated it as such. I suppose I just have a naivete that lets me believe everything will work out OK in the end. So far, I’ve been right.

I’ll probably go back for the sake of my children, but I’m not sure I subscribe to all of the teachings there. After a few more sessions, I’ll probably get a little more vocal and challenging my peers’ beliefs.

For the record, I’ve always believed in some higher power, by whatever name, but most simply say God. I’ve always believed in God. It’s man in which I have no faith — man and the myriad man-made religions that still threaten to destroy the world.