During the week of June 29^th – July 4^th, I attended a Christian Rock festival of music in Bushnell, IL, called Cornerstone. This was an oftentimes-peculiar experience for me, as I don’t identify myself as a Christian.

 

To understand why I don’t identify myself with Christianity, it probably helps to know the area in which I live. I come from one of the many small towns in the Midwest, where Christianity – and almost no other religions – are the path of choice. My town has a population of 4,900 people and fourteen distinct churches – no synagogues or temples or any houses of other religions. We are a community of followers of Christ.

 

This was fine by me for most of my childhood. Neither of my parents were from the area, and both were raised Catholic. We didn’t attend the Catholic church in town, however; we attended a much more liberal church, part of the Disciples of Christ. Read up about the Disciples of Christ here: http://www.disciples.org/AboutTheDisciples/tabid/67/Default.aspx

 

I believed in Jesus throughout most of my childhood and indeed spent long hours talking to him in middle school when I was depressed. But I also spoke at length to the character of Martin the Warrior from Brian Jacques’ Redwall books, as well as the other assorted literary and movie characters that peopled my imagination. I saw Jesus on exactly that level: a fictional character from a book, someone who existed only in my head. And at some point in seventh grade, I simply ceased to believe.

 

I’m not sure exactly what happened here. We stopped attending church when I was twelve, so I’m sure that helped. Neither of my parents were firm believers, and they saw a lot of close-mindedness amongst the Christians of our town – something they didn’t like. By the time I turned thirteen, I’d begun to see the close-mindedness, too – and I hated it. I’d always been a tender child, and I have never, ever believed in hating anyone. I have always suspected that one of the reasons I love villains so much is because, deep down, I hope that they can be redeemed and brought back to the side of good.

 

Many of the varied beliefs about Christianity did not allow for the diversity I’d been taught to respect. I was told by some friends that God had a book in which were written the names of those who would go to Heaven; and if your name was not in that book, you were going to hell. I couldn’t believe that. No, I thought, not the God I’ve heard preached about. He wouldn’t be that hateful. He couldn’t be.

 

Things got worse. We grew older, I returned to public high school after going to a private school for two years, and I encountered more and more hatred. God hates fags. Catholics are really pagans and are going to hell. That denomination is wrong; they’re actually devil-worshippers even if they proclaim to be lovers of Jesus, and they’re burning. It was everywhere, and I couldn’t escape it.

 

Another facet of the town I live in is its large Apostolic Christian community. Here is the official AC website, if you’ve not heard of them: http://www.apostolicchristian.org/

 

Apostolic Christians follow a pretty strict code, generally speaking – some churches are less restrictive than others. The one in my town is one of the most stringent in the area. Many of their practices aren’t well known to outsiders, because the community is extremely insular. Women generally wear long skirts and keep their hair up in buns, and are confined either to homemaking or small jobs – being Certified Nursing Assistants at the AC Nursing Home, secretarial work, teaching. There are still arranged marriages of a sort, and pressure to have many children.

 

ACs make up about fifty percent of our town’s population, I’d guess, and most of them are related to one another. As children, it was impossible to see who was Apostolic and who wasn’t, but when we became teenagers it suddenly became clear. Whenever they believe they are called, Apostolics join the church. Nothing unusual about that, except that they are required to withdraw from any and all extracurricular activities that they were previously involved in and thus, cut off most communication with their non-Apostolic friends.

 

I only had one close friend who joined the church; I still see her on occasion. I consider myself lucky that she wants to keep in touch, because most ACs wouldn’t bother. Another close friend of mine lost one of her best friends to the church, and it was one of the most painful experiences of her life. I dated a man in the Apostolic church, and that caused both of us considerable grief.

 

Growing up in an environment like this turned me off to Christianity. I realize that not all Christians are so closed off and hateful, but many of the ones I went to school with and dealt with at work were intolerant of “the other,” and my understanding of Christianity suffered because of that.

 

So I wasn’t particularly thrilled to be heading to a week of Christians and Jesus love. I went because my friends were going, and because I knew there would be lots of good music. And there was plenty of both – and a very new impression of Christianity waiting for me.

 

The first few days weren’t full of the indoctrination I’d expected, largely because everyone there is assumed to be Christian already. But by the third day I was beginning to see the religion everywhere. I listened to the lyrics of a screamo band and realized that they were howling, “I am not worthy of the body of Christ!” I saw people walking around wearing shirts that read, “Devil Music for Jesus” and “I <3 Hardcore Christian Girls”. Pro-life posters began going up; I realized that there was a tent with a three-hour-long worship service every morning.

 

It wasn’t until I went to see a band called Ember Days with my best friend Katie that it really hit me, though.

 

Ember Days is a New Zealand Christian Rock band (their Myspace is here: http://www.myspace.com/theemberdays). I think that not all of their music is based on Christianity, but the show they played for us was all gospel music. This was the first time that I’d really had to sit through a concert of music focused solely on Jesus and God. I was surprised at how comfortable I was with it. Instead of focusing on Jesus I decided to send prayers up to a generalized higher entity and enjoy the beauty of their music anyway.

 

I was uncomfortable for one reason primarily: I worried that Katie, who is a staunch Lutheran, would be trying to repress her desire to participate in the show because of my presence. Katie and I fought in the past about religion – in high school I told her I felt like she was constantly trying to convert me when I would not be budged, and later she told me she felt like she couldn’t say anything about her religion around me because she feared I’d be offended. By this point we’ve found a balance – I’ve even gone to church with her once – but nonetheless I was concerned. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to hold back just because I was there. I’m happy for her that her religion means so much to her and I would never want to interfere on that. I made sure to let her know this after the show, and everything was fine after that.

 

That night we went to a big concert at the main stage; the headliner was Relient K, one of my favorite bands. Between concerts, the emcee for the show came out and spoke of Jesus’ love and asked the people at Cornerstone to donate their time and money to a company called Compassion, which sponsors children around the world who need money for food, clothes, and education. They also spoke about human trafficking and what a huge problem it’s become, and the things we could do to right the wrongs we saw.

 

On the fourth day we went to the main stage again. One of the bands, in the middle of his concert, paused and told the crowd, “I just want to say that I’m tired of all the hate I see. I’m tired of turning on my TV and seeing people standing there with signs that say, ‘God hates fags.’ Last time I checked, my Bible said to love everyone!”

 

Yes! I cheered. Exactly!

 

“I just want to say,” he continued, “That we’re standing here to represent love. We’re not worth idolizing. We’re just a band. We’re imperfect people; we’ve made huge mistakes. Believe me, you don’t want to be like me. But Jesus, he knew what he was doing. And he told us to love everyone. So I want you to love everyone, to make friends with other people who you wouldn’t have expected to be friends with. I know it won’t be easy, and I know you’ll screw up – God knows I’ve done it enough – but I want you to try, for Jesus. It’s what he would have done.”

 

And that speech was one of the most powerful things I heard all week. I was truly moved by this singer’s devotion to Jesus’ idea of loving everyone, no matter what they’ve done. That’s something I’ve always believed in – and, of course, have never been perfect at.

 

That message of love continued. Everywhere we went, bands would finish their shows by saying, “Jesus was about love, and so are we. Come visit us after the show’s over, and whatever is troubling you, whatever problems you’re having, we’ll talk it over and pray with you.” One band even offered to give out their personal cell phone numbers and Myspace pages. There was an incredible bond there, trust and caring that I’ve never seen before in such a huge gathering of people.

 

It came close to converting me a few times, but it never hit the spot. God and I are in a constant struggle with one another. I’m always questioning Him/Her/It, because there are so many things that don’t make sense.

 

I won’t accept the answer “it’s part of God’s plan” or “God is beyond the grasp of mortal men.” I don’t think God has a plan. I certainly don’t want to worship a God who planned the Holocaust, the genocide in Darfur, slavery, war, starvation, and all the other horrible things that have happened and will continue to happen in this world.

 

And I don’t think God is beyond the grasp of mortal men, because most of the stories I see make God sound like a mortal man. This accusation is often leveled at Greek Gods, but the Christian God isn’t much different in my eyes. No, He doesn’t drink; no, He isn’t constantly lusting after women. He’s above that. But He is jealous of his people; he flies into a rage; he makes mistakes. (He has to wipe out all the people and animals with a giant flood because they’ve turned evil. How could that possibly have been planned?) And people say that we’re made in God’s image; saying that makes me see Him as one of us – more powerful, perhaps, maybe wiser, but fallible nonetheless.

 

At one point, the emcee at the main stage told us he’d often questioned why God would put horrible things on the earth. He told us he’d figured out the answer: “God wants us to do something about it.” It’s a test, essentially. But that doesn’t feel right to me. Why does God want to test us so much? He’s like a jealous girlfriend, constantly testing our faith and loyalty. If He was our significant other, we’d probably leave him for testing our fidelity so much and not just having faith in us.

 

“So what is it you actually believe, Auri?” you ask. The answer is rather complicated. My beliefs are always shifting, depending on what I’m studying or learning or experiencing. I haven’t identified myself with a specific religion since I was eleven or so.

 

What I believe in now is the power of story – the power to move people to action and to lead better lives through words. To me, the Bible is a book of stories put together and meant to spur its readers into action. Its power doesn’t come from its literal meaning, but from the underlying message of love, perseverance, and forgiveness. When you get stuck in the literal text, trying to follow all the hefty old rules without considering the time in which the Bible was written and by whom, and who put it together, etc., I think you lose most of what’s important.

 

My opinion didn’t change entirely from being at Cornerstone, but I did leave with a much rosier impression of Christianity than I’d had before. I’ve always hoped to see the love of Jesus in action, and I think it was in action at Cornerstone – even if I don’t necessarily believe in the specific person of Jesus. I’m grateful for the chance to see that love, and the chance to carry it around with me in the days to come.

 As part of my "getting to know Auri Mynonys" series of blogs, I took a whole lot of pictures of my room. The things within a person's room say a lot more about them than words really can. So here is a complete tour of my room (when it's clean and pretty, of course).

My bedroom is at the end of the hall on the third story of my house. When you first walk in, this is what you'd see - my bed, my Star Wars posters, my giant pink unicorn - and, of course, my cat Tasha. The sign on the door, "Defy Gravity," was inspired by the musical Wicked. The comic strip below it is a Zits one about Jeremy and his tendency to hide away in his room all the time. I jokingly call my room "my hermitage" because of all the time I spend there.

Now you've walked into my room. My bed is big and comfy and oftentimes doubles as my desk in my really busy school season. You can see all the lovely posters on my wall behind my bed. Most of them are Lord of the Rings related.

A better picture of my Wall of Crazy. Most of the pictures are Lord of the Rings related, though you can see my V for Vendetta poster and my Jafar picture. There are also notes from friends and boyfriends, fan poems, and artwork hanging up there.

 

My  two brand new Star Wars posters, my fairy calendar, and my work schedule, conveniently located at Staring distance. Also there's a tiny picture of Theoden and Eowyn hanging up there; I cut out their outlines and so couldn't fit them into the original patchwork of my Wall of Crazy.

The wall next to my bedis loaded up with stuff. I have a series of racks to hang scarves, belts, purses, and my Fellowship cloak. My nightstand is below those racks; it has my lamp, kleenex, alarm, stack of library books, and commonplace book, where I write funny quotes, stories, and dreams.

My dresser, covered in various memoribilia from times past, and my closet, which has a bookshelf on one side and clothes on the other. My bookshelf has loads of notebooks, my Brit Lit textbooks, and a lot of fun novels. It's also decorated with My Little Ponies and other crazy figures.

The back wall of my room houses another bookshelf and my computer desk. This is my favorite bookshelf - it's pretty expressive. It's got my favorite books and some of my favorite stuff on it.

 

Here is my actual desk, complete with TV and map of Middle Earth. Darth Maul guards the top of my television. My Muse Pony and Muse Barbie hang out on the desk, too, pluse my high school writing award, a photo carousel, and my Aladdin snow globe. The dresser next to my desk displays a small portion of my penguin collection and a few other stuffed animals and toys - Galadriel Barbie, another Darth Maul, and a My Little Pony or two.

That's the basic tour. If you're interested, here are details about what's on my shelves.

The top shelf here is dedicated to my earrings and some of my favorite dolls from days past. The small porcelain doll with the big skirt is named Colleen; my aunt bought her for me when I was small because I too am named Colleen. The Wicked Witch of the West Barbie is named Mini Elphaba; I have a bigger one on the next level. The Star Trek Barbies have been in storage for a year but came out to celebrate the new movie. India Barbie was purchased for an 8th grade project and has been recostumed many times, but is finally reunited with her entire original costume.

The next shelf hosts my Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings books. It also is the resting place for my 12" Eowyn, who's lounging on a really cool handmade Barbie couch. The couch looks like something out of a Victorian movie, but it's actually made out of strips of tin cans, painted ivory and red. There are little cushions so that it makes comfy seating. There are matching chairs that I intend to purchase in the near future for display purposes.

Hanging out next to 12" Eowyn are my Grima Wormtongue and Eowyn action figures. I am a total villain fangirl and I love Grima's character and his angst-ridden love and betrayal in Eowyn's name. So he gets to spend some time with an Eowyn action figure on my shelf.

The Barbie is an Isolde Barbie, but she makes me think of what Eowyn looked like in my head before the movie. She has a cup in her hand. And hugging the support is Big Elphie, who is a Robert Tonner Wicked Witch collectible. She has a stand, but it's wobbly and I prefer to pose her lounging anyway.

The next shelf has journals, behind-the-scenes guides to Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean, and a couple Star Wars related books. My complete Pirates soundtrack set hangs out here, as well as my homemade Queen Amidala doll. My mom made her for me out of a hairspray bottle, a cardboard egg, a strange ornament, and some felt and lace. I didn't appreciate her much at the time, but now all my commercially made Queen Amidala dolls have been given away. She is my favorite now anyway.

My Legolas Ken, extended LOTR soundtracks, diary, shirtless Darth Maul, and CD player. (I have a lot of Darth Mauls. He is my favorite villain ever, amongst my villain collection.)

The bottom shelf contains all fourteen Wizard of Oz books, some random paperbacks, and more copies of LOTR. I have somewhere around six copies of The Lord of the Rings and would still be willing to buy more.

There; the most important details of my room.

It's interesting the people who come into your life at seemingly random intervals - or the people who leave and then reenter your life when you least expect it.

I have made it a goal this year to explore multiple religions - to look at them objectively, to see what moves me, just to know about them. There is ample opportunity to see Christianity at work in my community - in our town of 5,000 we have 14 Christian churches - but to find those who have other beliefs is quite rare. Which brings me to the latest person to walk into my life...

I run a Writer's Circle at my public library. It's been shrinking as the year passed, so I had to shut it down briefly so that I could advertise and get a few new members. So far our newest addition is, much to my surprise, a man who is a pagan and, moreover, is gay.

To give you a bit of perspective: I live in the Midwest, in a very small community where half of the population is related to each other. We are made up, in the majority, of extraordinarily close-minded Christians. (I know that not all Christians are close-minded - but trust me when I say that many of those living in my town are.) There was a huge controversy at my high school this year because two boys went as dates and danced together. We are not, for the most part, a community that is friendly and welcoming to those who are not WASPs. Even Catholics get their fair share of hate much of the time.

So you can imagine I was very surprised to have this new member in our group. We are a pretty diverse collection of writers, for the most part - one woman writes nature poetry; another writes oftentimes inflammatory bits on the way the government/big corporations are screwing things up; and another girl - my age at twenty - writes really excellent fantasy novels. She and I get along pretty well, as we both write fantasy and are about the same age. She is from a much more conservative family than mine, however - one of those families that believes Harry Potter is demonic and therefore won't let their children read it.

I started my Writer's Circle again yesterday - and at the meeting there was only me, the girl who is my age and this new man. He was very open about his belief in Wicca and about his homosexuality, both of which made this girl very uncomfortable. He had some poetry he wanted to read that would have made this girl uncomfortable, and she told him so after he shared the topics. I think he was a little offended, because later, when I left them alone, I came back and found the girl saying something like, "Well I like to read new things and explore, but with my background I just don't..."

I interrupted at that point. I didn't particularly want to bring religion into my Writer's Circle, and I don't want it to affect the group dynamic. Still, I want everyone to feel welcome. This puts me in the role of a mediator, trying to keep the peace between these two deeply religious people without insulting either.

Personally, I find both religions fascinating and don't have problems with either belief. I hope that comes across in the way I talk to both of them, and I hope I can help both of them feel comfortable in a group together. It will be an interesting and incredibly difficult challenge for me, but in some ways I look forward to it.