Does truth elude us, or do we elude truth?

Today I arranged my meeting with the pastor of Morning Star Baptist Church. Putting aside the curious name my former church chose to give itself when they moved to a new building, it's a very nice facility which I've hardly explored to its fullest. This was perhaps the second or third time I've ever set foot in it. Those times I was there for mere moments. This time I spent several hours in it, in the pastor's office.

It was a nice office. A large cove of books was etched into the wall, looking to be more spacious than his closet. My mom did tell me he's an "information junkie". A clock that turned out to be an hour fast gauged the blur of time as we talked. A comfortable sofa accomodated me, but my comfort wouldn't come until I found myself in my words. Folding my arms this way or that didn't do much for the slight trembling I had for awhile. My coat was right behind me but I wasn't cold.

I didn't have trouble getting my words out, though. Trying to think of what I wanted to say next was my only problem, but I suffered it no more than usual, and it was hardly debilitating. To run out of things to say is to get out everything you had to say.

That isn't to say I said everything I intended, but some of the ideas and arguments I prepared were for a more aggressive speaker. This man wasn't here to fight. I was ready to fight, but it wasn't my goal. My goal was to establish myself, my views. I did so. I'm proud of myself.

One of the first things I said to him was about the Ireland anti-blasphemy laws. I said that it's fundamental to free speech and free religion that you be able to criticize someone's ideology. We agreed there. I pointed out that I do sympathize with European Muslims who have seen anti-blasphemy protection be extended toward Christianity and Judaism but not Islam. While no one should have these protections, I can't fault Muslims for wanting equality in the matter.

I then told him about my concerns about the church. He helped me put things into perspective. I know I'll go back sometime, but for now just talking about it made me feel as though I wasn't running. For awhile I've been trying to figure out who I want to be in the world, and who I choose to be if I visit my former church will be a part of that. He suggested I downplay myself, that I needn't lie. I don't like his particular suggestion of wording, though. Saying I'm "on a journey" that led me away from the church does give me an idea to start with, but I want to be able to define my disbelief in a way that accentuates it, maybe breaks it into swallowable and efficient pieces, but doesn't mask it. That's something I'll think about for awhile.

He told me he wants me to come to church as I am, and if I don't believe, that's ok. He implied I could come on Christmas and Easter, for example. Or that I could always come to him with questions or insights after his sermon.

I don't see myself doing that. I want to move beyond the subservience of church attendance. Sitting down and talking with him directly was so much more meaningful than my old church days had ever been. Seeking understanding through agreement and disagreement, to me, is infinitely more special than bowing in accordance to the status quo, or to God.

Pastor Mark might study a lot or have certain valued insights or abilities that have led him to lead this church but as a human I look to him as an equal, not a superior. He doesn't act superior; indeed he was very polite, patient, considerate and attentive to me, but that he is the chief, nay, sole speaker in the assembly of the church bothers me. I may choose to sit quietly and listen to you rather than speaking myself, but the arbitrary, unilateral method of preaching steers me away from it.

Of course, I believe in the merit of having speakers. I suppose it's that my viewpoint isn't one that's genuinely regarded or voiced within a church. Maybe I've taken a step toward changing that.

I'll go back someday to see the people I left behind, when I feel I'm ready to present myself.

In the meanwhile, we had a good discussion. He agreed with me on the topic of faith vs. fact. I am glad he's not someone who claims God is demonstrably proven. That's something I want to get people away from. I contend that there is no such thing as "spiritual fact" as far as humans are concerned, and I'll continue to refine my arguments against it. Someday they may appear here.

I talked to him a bit about my mom, and how I'm trying to go easier on her, because I understand her pains and frustrations, like worrying about me going to Hell, and having an aversion to fighting. What I didn't say, though, was that religion renders her less capable of discussing openly in this way, and she is not unique in this regard. This I see as a fundamental flaw in putting feeling over fact, which is the mode of operation of religion. Oh well. I didn't go just to argue with him.

I'd say the toughest question I asked him was regarding God's invisibility. Why is it important, nay, vital, that God test our ability to believe in him rather than reveal himself? My question came out differently than that, and I talked about how God does reveal himself in the Bible. He was silent for a moment, and said it was a good question. In answering, he said that even if people could see God they still might not believe, among other things. He also talked about how God reveals himself through creation and through his word... I guess I should say I expected this answer. It seemed to me like you need faith not only in God but in the invisibility of God.

I didn't grill him on this. I accepted what he said by telling him that it at least fits with what he believes, but that I can't believe that. I still think this question is fundamental and I can't accept the idea that it's its own answer; that you have to believe in belief. It seems thematically impressive yet it's circular and impotent as an answer.

We talked about James Randi and Peter Popoff, Pat Robertson and Todd Bentley, Jean Paul II and Benedict XVI. He seemed disappointed in the behavior of fraudsters, and said that while he rarely criticizes specific people, he does teach people to understand the idea of Christ's message and to see people who are going against Christ's ways. Of my critiques of these men, he said you don't have to be a Christian to smell a rat.

I worry that con men will continue to succeed if Christians don't speak up about them. I believe in naming names. Highlighting examples. Asking tough questions. Demanding good answers. It's not Christians alone that fail at this, but the American media and the American people. But I worry that religion plays a big part of this. A notable minority of the country would not question Sarah Palin's motivations or qualifications because they believe in her spiritual character and convictions. I think that says a lot by itself.

We talked about God healing amputees - or rather, not doing so. This played back into the idea of faith vs fact. On the topic of faith, he mentioned faith in a loved one. It made me think about why we have faith vs. knowledge in our personal relationships. We can't put strict definitions to words like "love" or "friendship" so we must use faith to bridge the gap between the implied definition of the word and the functional dynamics of the relationship it attempts to describe.

He really liked what I said about faith and fact. I'll try and recall it accurately. Ah, yes. He was talking about doubts, and how doubt is part of faith. What I said was, "Faith without doubt isn't faith; it's either knowledge or ignorance."

I mentioned the difference between faith and belief to him, too. He didn't have much to say on it but I think he agreed. Belief is your idea that something is real. Faith is your trust that it will stay true to you. You can have faith in your wife, but belief in your wife is irrelevant. I think I can accept faith, since I have faith in others which I can't prove, but I can't accept belief in God because it's unfounded and irrational and even self-refuting, depending on the interpretation of God. If God started granting my wishes, I could have a justified belief that he's real, but it would still be on faith that he loves me - I have a reason, but I can't be sure. He could just like giving me gifts for the heck of it. I can accept that faith, but not the belief in between.

The church is doing some classes. One is being led by one of my old youth pastors. It's about children who hit adulthood and stop going to church, and they're using a book by Ken Ham as their basis, so that's always fun. I tried to explain to the pastor my perspective on that issue. The silence, the difficulty expressing one's religious views to their family and the family's lack of interest in the matter. This explains both the deterioration of the faith, and of the confusion parents experience when that faith finally breaks. I don't know if the book covers all of that stuff, but I have my doubts. He said he appreciated my views on it.

It's just so obvious from perspective. I sat in that church and watched my bored friends and their lackluster faith. It was obvious nine out of ten were dragged there by their parents with no interest in their feelings on the matter, just as I was. This sort of ignorant "get them in the building and they'll do the rest on their own" approach to indoctrinating children with Christianity is part and parcel to why churches are withering.

I talked to my mom about this a bit today and she said how the older generations came from an age where almost everyone went to church, and those who didn't still felt like they were supposed to. Well, these old folks deserve what they've reaped, my parents included. I only wish more of my age group were more vivacious in thinking for themselves rather than just fizzling out into intellectually uncurious agnostic ambivalence. I know that you can't know some things, but it's nice to figure out what you can and can't. Still, if we must, we can at least take things one step at a time.

Finally, one of the most important things I think I did was explain where I'm at to him. I don't want to come off as someone who's looking for answers from God. I don't believe God exists. If he does, he knows where I live, and he's got some splainin' to do. I'm still interested in his alleged institutions, though. I tried to make it clear that I don't feel a longing for these feelings of God, but I do want to know what approach I'd like to take from here on out, and talking to the pastor was helpful in shaping those thoughts.

I tried to present myself as I am - as someone who has considered as many possibilities as I can. I could be wrong. I could be something other than I think I am, or reality could be different than it appears to me. But I'm not afraid of confronting these possibilities. That's why I went in to talk. I want to be someone who can confront my pasts and problems. Someone who's confident in who I am and what I think. I think that's who I am now. And I think he could see that.

I told him what he already knew. Christianity is about feeling. If I were to revert to it, it would be on feeling. I don't feel a need for that feeling and I can't think my way to it.

He was open to the idea of talking to me again. He said I was "very wise", "considerate", "amiable" and "articulate". I really appreciate that. I warned him if I talked to him again I might be more oppositional, though I attempt to distinguish Christians from Christianity. He pointed out that you can't separate the two completely, which is true. I didn't have much of a reply at the time, besides agreeing, but I think if you choose to attach yourself to something, you assume a vulnerability. The only way to never be offended is to become like water, like a mental Bruce Lee.

I like the man. I think he genuinely cared about me and wished me the best. I know he'd love to have me turn over a new leaf, join his church and all that jazz. Not happening. I appreciate that he didn't try to sell it to me, but he did make it clear it was available.

But if we continue to talk, I'll hit him with full force. He demonstrated what seems to be his main basis of belief - his evidence, his assurance. I disagree, but since he wasn't using it as his focal point, I didn't get too deeply into it. I'm beginning to see things in more and more interesting ways. I'm examining the understanding of words like "love" and "truth" to see if they have any absolute values. I think that understanding is a vital part of both love and truth.

I understand his reasoning. But I see something fundamental about taking apart his beliefs and finding every flaw I can. The pursuit for truth is not discourteous in the bluntness and thoroughness of its refutations. It is courteous because acknowledgement is a form of respect and to acknowledge all aspects and thus all flaws is a most sincere honesty.

Someday I'll define absolutes for you as best I can. It won't be perfect. But it's a curious line of thought that fascinates and challenges me. I think I can get at what God "could be" - and why he isn't.

Don't wait on it, though. The road there is long and I have a lot of stops on the way. The debate's not over; it's only beginning.