blue like jesus

My spiritual beliefs have packed up their suitcases and moved many, many times from Catholicism to Hinduism and Buddhism, and have even made a brief but intense pit stop in an exurb called Fundamentalism (as a tourist, not a citizen). My most radical shifts in thinking have had to do with Jesus and the religion about him. Growing up in the Catholic Church, Jesus was a gory figure nailed to the cross who had risen to the right hand of the God the Father where they sat motionless like statues on their thrones in the sky. But Jesus WAS God, too, and he was also something invisible called the Holy Spirit. It didn't make sense to me then any more than it does now.

In 2004, I was living in California, immersed in West Coast raw foodism and yogic philosophy and had altogether shunned the idea of Jesus as a deity. And then I met a man who I thought truly embodied the teachings of Jesus, in word and action. He was caring, compassionate and charitable. Mysteriously, we fell in love, and for a split second it was beautiful. Overnight, I changed my views on Jesus. I began to re-believe the idea of virgin birth and bodily resurrection. I read the New Testament and visualized a life of missionary work. I could be the next Mother Teresa! (So what if I was going to be a married yogini?)

Four years, loads of meditation and dozens of Unitarian Universalist sermons later, I now see Jesus as an enlightened prophet but would be embarrassed to label myself a Christian. Long story short, my former flame has been put away for the next eighteen years in a prison cell for molesting young girls. So, God failed him. Or he failed God. Or both. It was enough to turn me away from the narrow path.

A dear friend and mentor to me at school is also the embodiment of Christ-like qualities. He goes consistently beyond the call of duty for the benefit of his students. He is considerate, trustworthy, funny and sweet. Unlike the lifelong California Christian, the Texan teacher is a relatively new Christian. He has gone from gigging musician/marijuana evangelist/non-committal guy to a married father living in suburbia and hosting Bible studies. I know that he believes in Creationism and literal Resurrection, but I choose to look the other way. His belief system is a black mark in my mind, yet his faith is also what drives him to help and care for others as Jesus would. He very thoughtfully gave me a book for airplane reading called Blue Like Jazz. Its cover touts "nonreligious thoughts on Christian spirituality." It's well-written and engaging, yet I find myself feeling terribly judgmental when the author writes things like, "I would die for the gospel because I think it is the only revolutionary idea known to man." That makes me bristle. It gets back to the core of what to me is despicable about Christianity: the pompous belief that they have exclusive rights to the highest truth.

On the bright side, it reminds me what I love about yoga. The absence of dogma. The truth in the breath, in the present moment, in learning to quit beating ourselves up on and off the mat -- because we are not broken, sinful, lowly beings, we are children of the universe, with divinity in our hearts, perfect in our imperfections and on the path to wholeness. Religious or not, these beliefs remain constant and sustain me.