This is the final chapter describing my need to get to know God and somehow still survive in my culturally diverse family. Here are links to Chapter 1, Chapter 2, and Chapter 3. At the end of chapter 3 I had read two interesting books and neither one was the bible.

I Meet REAL Christians
David comes from a rather large family. I always wanted a big family growing up and when I married David I got it in spades. His mother is one of eight children and all the aunts, uncles and cousins get together regularly. (As a matter of fact they are all coming to our house this weekend). This “small” gathering of individuals usually numbers somewhere around 20 on a slow day. They were all raised Christians. They were all raised going to church weekly. They were all raised making Christ the center of their lives. This was very scary for me.

I was very nervous meeting David’s family because I knew they KNEW. They knew my mother was Jewish. They knew I didn’t attend church. They knew I had never been baptized. They knew I wasn’t Christian. And I knew how they would react — or at least I thought I did. That is the most beautiful part of this story — they didn’t react. They didn’t care. They opened their arms, their hearts, their homes and welcomed me. They embraced me for who I am and in everything they did and do they show me what being a Christian is meant to look like. They never judged me. They just loved me. They will never know how much that meant and means to me. That is not to say that they are perfect – because they are not. As all families go, and especially big families, they have their own short-comings and problems and are very fallible. The beauty of their family comes from their bottomless well of unconditional love and their boundless ability to forgive – and that comes from their faith.

I Have An Epiphany (We Find A Church)
I stood for awhile in a soup of contemplation. I had CS Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, my mother, my years of education, and various members of David’s family all floating around in my head. All those years of being judged by people who presented themselves as “good Christians” and now seeing a different type of Christian I was lost. What did it really mean to BE Christian? I no longer knew.

This entire time David and I still went to churches. A new one every couple of months. There was always something wrong. David didn’t like the minister or the music or it was too conservative or too weird or whatever. We were several years into this journey of looking for churches when we stumbled into Preston Trail Community Church. I’m not going to give you details about my church but I will tell you that they say with regularity “No Perfect People Allowed”. And with that all the pieces fell in place.

1. People are hypocrites
2. Their hypocrisy is not my problem – it is God’s
3. Me judging them for their hypocrisy is as bad as them judging me for not believing
4. My faith is my business
5. Having faith, being a Christian (or Jew) is like dieting. Every day you get up and do the best you can to live by the rules outlined by your faith. Sometimes you do great and sometimes, not so much. The key is though that you try everyday and God does appreciate the effort.
6. Christ most definitely wasn’t a nut-job since I fundamentally agree with everything he said
7. Thus, he seems like a good guy to follow
8. I guess that makes me a Christian — Hmm, who would have guessed?

Loose ends
I still haven’t gotten all the questions answered. And that is part of my journey that is left to be taken. I still struggle with the bible. I can’t, as a scholar, believe in its inherent infallibility. Especially when you put it in context of other contemporary books, myths, the oral tradition, translation errors, etc. However, I do believe it is filled with lots of wisdom and something worthy of study. It fundamentally relates historical events mixed in with a fair bit of fantasy – typical Medieval text. Will I teach my children that the bible is the infallible word of God? Wow, I don’t think I have the answer to that question yet.

Then there is my Jewishness. I can’t hide it, deny it or give it up. I’m Jewish. My mother is Jewish. My Grandmother was Jewish. My Great Grandmother was Jewish. They were persecuted, they fled their country and they sacrificed everything for religious freedom. How do I continue to honor that and yet still pursue my own spiritual path? I’m not sure, but I’m trying every day to do that. I was so honored to host my first Passover Seder with David’s family in attendance and I hope to host future Passover Seder’s.

The Big Finish
Sometimes I wish I was one of those people that could believe without question. But my faith doesn’t come because somebody told me to believe that way – or because my parents insisted I believe a certain way. No, my faith has come from research, thought, and reflection and I believe that makes it stronger. Although I will guide my children spiritually and openly share my own beliefs I hope that they don’t shy away from questioning their beliefs. I want my kids to be critical thinkers, independent thinkers, the kind of people who are not scared of forming their own opinions based on research and careful reflection. A faith that cannot face challenge, that cannot face doubt, is not a faith that warrants followers. I’ve embraced Christianity because at the end of the day it still stands.