My God Is Better Than Your God...? A Second Look...

When I was a little guy of about 5, I started going to church. I was baptized Methodist and Mokena Methodist Church was my first experience with what we call "organized religion." It was a tiny, white church with hard, wooden pews that split the room into two equal halves. As I recall there were about 8 rows of them crossing the simple sanctuary. It had a perfectly pointed steeple that reached into heaven itself, from my wee perspective, and the bell was hand rung by a man tugging a rope with a thickly twisted knot. The thunderous gong of the bell could be heard throughout the village calling people to service and scolding those still in bed. It had a small balcony where my buddies and I sat.

My mom would drop me off or I would walk the quarter mile to this "House of God," kicking stones and slaying imaginary dragons with a broken branch all the way. Pastor Benton or Granger met us at the doors with a comforting smile and warm handshake or a tussle to the hair. My fellow parishioners would file to the left and slide in to the right shuffling to the predetermined spot in the pews they occupied week after week.

I attended semi-regularly until I was confirmed in 8th grade. I was always comforted by pictures of Jesus, but as a kid I would think to myself "Wow! This Jesus really likes sheep." He is holding one or leading some in all these pictures. If I half paid attention to anything the pastor said it was a miracle but I really liked the hymns. Songs like "Amazing Grace," "Yes, Jesus Loves Me. " "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" and "I got the Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy Down in My Heart made me feel warm inside and I would sing them skipping all the way home. Of course I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. But it made me feel good.

Everything I heard from the New Testament, with the exception of the Crucifixion in the Gospels, was reassuring. The stories of the Old Testament scared the crap out of me. The thought of burning bushes that talked and people getting turned into salt was horrifying. I wondered why God could be such a "mean old guy," and his kid be so nice, walking around with those sheep. I believed in the Great Creator and Jesus but it all was pretty confusing to me.

When I would hear that the only way to heaven was through Jesus I was more confused. I had so many questions. "What if you live in China and never heard of him?" What if you were an Indian in America who lived a good life and just never heard the stories?" I knew that Jesus was from Israel in the corner of Africa but he didn't walk very far! There were people in Russia and Canada and Australia that had no idea that the guy with the lambs even existed! As a little guy it made my head swim and I never got an answer to my questions that made any sense to me.

I tried to read the Bible. I wanted to read it cover to cover. With my resolve intact I would read about Adam and Eve, Noah, then the names would start and I was sunk. 'Joe son of Roe, Father of Mike and brother of Pete.' I couldn't keep my own family straight! As quickly as I had picked it up, I put the book back on the shelf, frustrated that the authors were awfully picky on the family tree thing!

After Confirmation, or church graduation as I liked to think of it, I started attending other churches, usually the one that my girlfriend's family went to. I tried St. John's United Church of Christ and Hope Church but I always came away with the same questions and more. Each church seemed to imply that they were the "one true church" and that Jesus and his sheep preferred them over the others.

My church world tour ended up at St. Mary's of the Nativity. Catholic church was so different than the others I had gone to. From the moment I walked in I felt different! The statues were beautiful, the stained glass breathtaking and the kneeler was a cool touch. I liked the way the incense smelled and the concept that I could go crazy, confess in a phone booth like box, say a few prayers and I was good to go was just what the doctor ordered. I felt a hole in my heart and felt terrible about myself and this seemed like just the place to feed that discomfort. I especially loved that it was 40 minutes! You could set your watch to it. My humility was quickly turned back to confusion when they to said "they" were the one true church. They had the Pope and were the first so they won by default.

Why does there have to be a winner? Jesus was Jewish yet the Jews do not think of him as a Messiah. They believe in the first five books of the Old Testament and their focus is on a Savior not yet here. I am a believer in Jesus and have found a church that I am comfortable with. It is Parkview Christian Church in Orland Park on the edge of the tiny town I grew up in. They stress the Bible and our humanity, God's grace and our right to choose. They do amazing things for charity and everyone is welcomed. They don't claim to be the best.

I don't think my God is better than yours. I still don't understand terms like "Holy War" and suicide bombings in the name of one's God. Popes have led armies into battles and the Inquisition a farce. I think Buddhism is peaceful and introspective and Hinduism respectful to life and nature. I have read parts of the Koran and it is beautiful poetry. I think the part that screws it up is man. Money and power corrupt even the noblest of ideals. I often wish that everyone in the world was oblivious to religion like when I was a little kid. I wish we could all be comforted and content just like I was watching that nice man walking with his sheep.