A Gentler Crusade

    


     The longer I dwell on it, the more I realize that religion (no one in particular, just the persistent general hold it has on its population), is mindboggingly integral in the struggles that taint the way of life for millions of people, especially hunger.  From the blistering few months we've been on the road, we've run into a myriad of religious organizations who are making real and meaningful contributions to ending hunger in their own communities, and it has that unique duality of being humbling while at the same time provoking a reaction in us to follow suit.

     I was never an advocate for religion personally, in my younger days, and still to this day I'm still not.  For me, it's almost akin to a hobby that I simply weened my interest away from.  I do remember fondly my days in youth groups, mucking around with my church buddies while at the same time laboring through the otherworldy Mojave Desert dryness of sermons we had to succumb to in order to advance towards the church potluck.  Of course, even that was a double edged sword; the newly expectant mothers with their pre natal taste buds and cold war era geriatrics felt it their duty to experiment with new fangled ways to prepare Spam and packaged soy meat substitutes that would make even the most gut wrenching hunger pangs vanish in a wisp of vapor.  A word of advice: soy dog casseroles are an abomination, and a war crime in any other part of the world. 

     That being said, I truly did appreciate the earnestness in the people I was surrounded by that were determined to make a saint out of me, which made it all the more awkward when I couldn't keep up the facade any longer, essentially abandoning my faith altogether. 

    I still to this day can't really pin point that exact moment that prompted my abandonment.  Perhaps it was that general air of pompous stuffiness I snatched a whiff of from the white suburban house wives , (or maybe that was the cheap Sunday sermon perfume?), and some of their snotty kids who had already racked up a check list of truly horrifying and sinful acts of debauchery that would make their priest blush.  Or maybe it stems from those nights in my household where I took up my usual post aloft in my bunk bed, whispering hoarsely under my breath with my clenched shut eyes burning white hot, pleading for more than just the typical one sided spiritual exchanges I had in my head as my ears pricked up at the sharp, sound barrier crack of skin colliding with skin emanating from the adjacent room.

     In any case, I've been generally dismissive of religion since then, and as a result I regarded it with a sort of blackened amusement as I come in contact with more people who put it in the center of their lives.  I pitied them, in a way that is borderline juvenile in its narrow mindedness and sickeningly asinine in its condemning.  At the time, however, I though of myself as a self sustaining force of nature; someone who didn't need a crutch to vault over my demons to achieve what I strived for.  And, I was in this blissful state of arrogance for a large chunk of time, at least until Dan and I passed through the Salt Lake City area. 

     When we heard about the Welfare Square in Salt Lake City, we new some basic little factoids about the organization: run by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and essentially a hub for the impoverished and needy.  Reflexively, a part of me recoiled when I discovered the religious affiliation, and I braced for the teeth grating on my part.  Our scooter ride over to the complex was fairly brief, and we eventually found ourselves in their main lobby, where we happened across a convenient tour group.  After exchanging brief pleasantries, we were corralled into a large conference room of sorts with a projector screen, where we were informed that a brief movie would be shown to highlight the mission of the church and the facility, at which point my brain was screaming in my ear, "It's a trap!"  Too late, I inwardly flexed, as the projector flickered to life and we patiently sat through the usual religious montage of smiling children and soaring brass and string sections.  Actually, not to bad compared to others I've sat through. Eventually, we were finally led through the actual facilities, and it was then that my jaw finally started to scrape the floor.

     To me, the whole complex seemed like one massive shopping center with top of the line appliances and furnishing.  Every where you turned the fluorescent lighting glinted off of the polished floor underneath us and the stainless steel walls and machinery tucked in a multitude of corners.  For the next couple of hours we were led through a grocery store packed to the brim with canned goods and fresh produce, a bakery with spotless machinery and massive stores of food neighboring it, a scientific facility to test for food quality and safety lined with beakers and gadgets I couldn't even fathom their purpose, a thrift store with the clientele of GoodWill and the selection of major name brand chains, and even a facility where they make their own cheese and dairy products, free of preservatives and unnecessary additives.  With my head still swirling in overwhelming scope, we were made aware that everything, EVERY SINGLE THING in this complex is entirely funded by something called "fast offerings".  Essentially, members of the church are encouraged, (however not required ), to donate money that they would otherwise spend on a couple of meals on one Sunday of every month. This is completely separate from the standard tithe.

     As I absorbed all this information I still could not fathom the astronomical support this community was lending to this institution, and the almost fanatical fervor I saw in the people trying to make a sizable difference for their community was quite possibly the most evident when we finally reached their employment center.  There in front of us was a smattering of volunteers, buzzing away diligently as they pecked away at keyboards and shuffled papers across desk and cabinets, all the while chatting away pleasantly with each other.  As if prompted by our questioning gaze, our tour guides informed us that these volunteers were all primarily from the church community, and that they all held separate jobs themselves; they just do this on their spare time. 

     Up until that point, I never truly understood the implications of being part of a church going community that truly embraced the divine message they govern themselves around.  I've always had this degrading sympathy for anyone who chose the religious path; a sign of weakness on their part, to put it bluntly.  With my troubled past, coupled with my stubborn resolve to improve myself with divine intervention, I diluted the surprisingly pungent effects the Word of God can have on a struggling community, and now I find myself questioning my narrow minded mentality.  Who am I to dismiss His word, when it has provoked those to create so much for the good of their community?  They have no monetary gain to follow in the divine scripture; only a reassurance that their contributions will better the lives of their fellow man.  Sure, I could continue with the usual argument over discrepancies  regarding the Word of God, as is my antagonistic nature towards a subject I have a certain stigma towards, but then what would be the point?  Perhaps I'm jealous; to witness a positive change in people through the influence of something I hungered for long ago. 

     Regardless of my lack of "faith", I concede that this world is plagued with a Pandora's Box of problems, especially in our own country.  There was a time when I advocated the separation of religion from any possible solutions that would benefit our troubled citizens, but I realize now that it is not only a necessity for the combination, but also an inevitability.  It is a crutch for that family that hasn't eaten a decent meal in weeks, and a banner for those who are willing to devote their time and energy to make sure that aforementioned family is satiated.  In this day in age religious affiliation is met with leers of disdain due to some of it troubled past, but it's time that I respect its influence and the potential social progress it can promise.  In essence, religion is that secret dash of spice that one tosses into a bubbling pot of nourishment that ties the whole ensemble together.  Without it, the whole presentation is liable to fall apart.

     That being said, I think I'll still sleep in on Sundays and forgo any sermons, for now.  Baby steps.