The psychologist Carl Jung made the claim that when an
individual holds two contradictory parts of himself together, rather than
destroying one another, these two parts will eventually shift, linking like
pieces of a puzzle, becoming a third whole that did not yet exist. Holding
these two opposites together is like holding the repelling ends of a magnet
together. They push away with a fierce energy that seeks to either run from or
annihilate the other. Keeping these two paradoxical parts together is
uncomfortable, and sometimes altogether painful. But it is the pain and effort
involved in this process that Jung claims purify the man like a refining fire.
The
revolution of faith that I experienced was much like this. I could no longer
ignore the reality of my sexuality, and I had few options. I could either run
from it, deeper into Mormonism. I could dive into my sexuality headfirst,
abandoning faith altogether. Or I could muscle the two together.
I chose to
wrestle with the painful issues on both sides. It has been no easy road, and
few have been able to see the logic in my choices, but as Jung promised, I have
experienced a shifting in these parts. Now my faith and my sexuality fit together
perfectly in a whole, no fighting and no fragmentation. This experience has
allowed me to step back, in spite of my fears, and see so many issues from a
new perspective. Holding to my preconceived conventions is not an option, and
there is a liberation that comes along with that letting go.
The effects of this transformation
extend far beyond matters of sexuality and faith. It has led me to reconsider
the very way in which I view the world. Lines of black and white have blurred
and rules of what are and what are not have fallen away. Things that I used to
fear I am now stepping into, allowing myself to experience. The deeper
connections of all things human, spiritual, and meaningful are becoming more
evident to me. As the old grey walls I lived within are crumbling away the
radiant colors of the wild are taking flight. Let me give an example.
This past Sunday was Easter. My
boyfriend and I went to the Episcopal cathedral for the service, finding the pews
full and the folding chairs on the side filling quickly. We took our seats, and
listened to the exquisite organ music. As the eleven o’clock hour arrived, a full
orchestra began to sound, playing music that my boyfriend said sounded like
Star Wars. I smiled at the comparison. The majesty of Star Wars is something I
would happily welcome. As the trumpets joined the revelry we all stood, and the
clergy stepped into the cathedral, waving massive poles with rainbow colored
streamers flying at the top. Other poles bore paper butterflies, the symbol of
rebirth, dancing around the tips.
The music grew bolder, and the
organ finally joined, shaking the cathedral to its core as we added our voices,
singing,
Jesus
Christ is risen today, Alleluia!
Our
triumphant holy day, Alleluia!
Who
did once upon the cross, Alleluia!
Suffer
to redeem our loss, Alleluia!
The voices of hundreds of people
filled every remaining space in that great stone hall, and the magnificence of
it overcame me. Tears came to my eyes and I struggled to sing.
Hymns
of Praise then let us sing, Alleluia!
Unto
Christ our heavenly king, Alleluia!
Who
endured the cross and grave, Alleluia!
Sinners
to redeem and save, Alleluia!
As the music continued I could not
help but feel the divinity in it. My thoughts went to Jesus Christ, and the
reason for our massive celebration. There is great power in the belief in a
Savior. He is the great unifier, the one who makes right all that seems to have
gone wrong, and the one who delivers us from suffering and sorrow. To believe
in such a being is to believe that when all is said and done all will be right,
for it is all in the hands of a majestic and loving God.
But
the pains which he endured, Alleluia!
Our
salvation have procured; Alleluia!
Now
above the sky he’s king, Alleluia!
Where
the angels ever sing. Alleluia!
The voices of my fellow worshipers
sounded more clearly in my ears, and I realized that in addition to the
personal joy faith in the Savior brings, belief in Jesus Christ means that
every single person in that room is my brother or sister, that every person
outside of that house of worship is as well. Regardless of religion, belief,
nationality or race, it doesn’t matter.
I realized then my own tendency to
criticize right-wing conservatives and those that speak one thing and do
another. If I truly believe in this man Jesus, then they too are to be given
mercy and forgiveness. I was then reminded of my own family, who I had not made
an effort to talk to in months. Once again, if I believe in Jesus Christ then I
need to offer them my love as well.
The music swelled, building until I
didn’t think I could contain my emotions, and with all the fervor that could be
mustered we sang,
Sing
we to our God above, Alleluia!
Praise
eternal as his love; Alleluia!
Praise
him, all you heavenly host, Alleluia!
Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost. Alleluia!
There was a power in the air that
was nearly tangible as the music fell to silence. The priest stepped to the
front and proclaimed,
“Alleluia! Christ is risen!”
In one voice we replied,
“The Lord is risen indeed!
Alleluia!”
And as I said it, I knew those
words held so much more meaning for me as a Christian.
Easter has become one of my
favorite days of the year, because for me it means so much more than simply
religious tradition. The new perspective I have gained from holding together
the contradictory parts of my life has changed the way I interact with religion,
and the world. Life has become more challenging, especially since it’s not
plotted out in black and white, but when it all comes together the effect is
simply breathtaking. Faith is more potent, more real. Joy is brighter, and
comes in more colors. Magic moments come into my life much more often. The
world has become a beautiful place since I opened my eyes to see it.
I still deal with conflict and contradiction. I am still learning to
love and to forgive. I am still learning how to build a healthy relationship
and a satisfying future. I still have my insecurities and my inner demons to
battle. But I know from experience how to better sit with my inner paradoxes.
Sometimes I simply need to settle into the quiet, inside and out. Other times I
have to wrestle with the issues in an emotional free-for-all. But I know that
if I hold on long enough, and keep these seemingly contradictory issues in my
life together, eventually it will all come together in one magnificent burst of
light.
My guy sings in the choir of his UCC congregation. I was not able to attend on Easter Sunday so he told me about the service. I love the variety of music and musical instruments. His church also has a beautiful pipe organ and an excellent organist. I love hearing the music at his church.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful metaphor! It describes the situation for many religious LGBTQ identified individuals. Thanks so much for posting this!
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