Today I am going to my neice's Confirmation (she's Lutheran).

Actually, this neice is also my Goddaughter.

This is ironic, for so many reasons.

Maddy is a Believer. She has told me so on many occassions, and I struggle with that.

I want to change her mind, make her see things the way I do, educate her about all the reasons organized religion and Christianity just doesn't work.

I want to, and every once in awhile I slip and let some of my prejudices escape over into her world. I try not to let that happen too often, though.

Because as strong as my aversion is to the religion I was raised in, my belief in everyone's right to choose their own spiritual path is just as strong. She has the right to believe what she wants, to worship where her heart leads. Spirituality and religion are very personal subjects with truths that can only be found within the individual. 

Still, I am her Godmother. More like a "fairy" Godmother now, I suppose. I was there, a believer myself, when she was baptized into the Christian faith. I made a vow before the god I believed in to guide her in her faith, her journey o her spiritual path. Back then, I was complacent in my beliefs. I had only begun to think about my own relationship with the divine. The idea that I had a choice of any kind hadn't even occurred to me, yet. So a vow made then, before god and family, was a powerful thing.

But in the end, my own confusion and resentment about my faith has led me down a path wholly unfamiliar to the rest of my family, and is certainly not even remotely close to the faith my Maddy believes in. How can I teach her about faith and belief and spirituality when my own is so tangled? I don't know why, but every discussion of the faith I was raised in always seems to set my teeth on edge and puts derision and scorn in my voice that I cannot hide.

I believe that she has a right to her beliefs, it is her choice alone. But I want that choice well-tempered in reality and truth. Too many believe blindly in their respective religions, because that's what people close to them have told them is true. It matters not what the belief might be, Jewish, Muslim, Catholic, Hindu, Zen, Buddhism, what have you, to be born into a faith is to be brainwashed. These religions all say they welcome questions and the chance to prove their veracity, but they don't really mean it. Much safer to have the unquestioning obedience of the masses, and what better way to assure that the faithful remain so forever is to start young. Grab the minds and hearts of the children, and most will die of old age never once having wondered if what they "believe" is the truth.

Right now, my religion is one big question mark. I know what I don't believe. I know what I want to believe. But my own pragmatism and, dare I confess it, pessimism, keeps me from wholeheartedly accepting that religion of any kind is real.

I find beauty in the nature religions of paganism, like the Wicca and Druid paths. The balance of the masculine and the feminine, the bend toward nature and care of the Earth, the rituals tied to the seasons. These are basics, almost. The rituals of most modern religions are tied intimately to their pagan origins, though most people never realize just how close the relationship really is. Christians in particular cling to the fear they've been taught of anything "not Christian." The word witch is almost synonymous with the word devil, though true Wiccans don't even believe in the Devil, or in Hell. Their faith does not allow for the ultimate destruction and eternal suffering of the human soul. And yet, my own realistic nature continually tells me that god/goddess doesn't really exist and are merely a human construct to explain our own lives.    

Why I can be so eloquent when writing about what I believe, and yet fail utterly to explain when I talk to people eludes me. 

Well, it's almost time to go, and I need to finish getting ready. Must be gorgeous if I have to go sit in church for an afternoon. 

Jinx