I was born into a weekly church going Roman Catholic family, took Sunday school seriously and was an acolyte. Around age 8-9, my family made a sideways leap to become Episcopalian, and I became an acolyte there as well. The priest and parishioners seemed less stuffy and formal, which I liked. In later years, I found special meaning in the words of an unknown comic who said “I’m an Episcopalian. In other words, I don’t have any clue about who God is, but I would love to play bridge with him sometime.”
I, on the other hand, was very serious about God and spirituality. I was fascinated with creation, salvation, and morality. I wanted to understand everything I could. However, by the time I began my confirmation process, I began to have fatal doubts about the whole God and religion “thing.” I had lots of difficult questions and the answers I was given really didn’t satisfy me. I became increasingly disillusioned with the whole process.
At the same time, I didn’t want to disappoint my family by failing to be confirmed. So, when it came time for my final interview with my priest, I kept my questions to myself and gave all the “right” answers. My priest was a sensitive soul, however, and sensed that something wasn’t quite right in my answers. He kept asking me deeper questions and challenging me in his kind but penetrating manner. I eventually cracked and told him both the issues that were troubling me and the depth of my doubts. In response, he said something that always stuck with me.
“Mark,” he told me, “those are all good questions, and tough ones to answer. I can’t just give you the answers to them, you must find them on your own for them to satisfy you. However, I can promise you that you will if you keep asking them. I can see how serious you are about this, and that is what is really important.” With those words, he verified my confirmation and I became an official member of the church – fully ready to play bridge with the other members.
As it happened, the answers to my questions would not come for many years, but the questioning and search became more intense. A short time later, I found myself deeply doubting my choice to be confirmed. I was caught between a long felt fear and reverence for God and complete mistrust of the credibility of my religion. In desperation I found myself praying for the last time in many years. The conclusion of my prayer was “God, if you really do exist, please forgive me, but I don’t believe in you anymore.”
Being born again into spirit
When I went off to college, I got my first taste of religion outside the church and my questioning came back with a vengeance. I became captivated by the investigation of values, purpose, and meaning. I studied comparative religion, rational philosophy, psychology, and mysticism. I returned to the Bible, became born again, and invited Jesus into my heart. I studied the emptiness of Buddhism, the fullness of Tantra, the balance of Taoism, the worship of Hinduism, and the devotion of Sufism. I prayed and meditated and contemplated, and chanted. I found the answers I was looking for.
I fell in love with the divine.
Around this time, I had an experience that deeply
affected life. My mother’s cancer recurred with a vengeance. This
time, radiation and chemotherapy did not work and her health
deteriorated much faster than we had anticipated. On the day of my
brother’s wedding, despite the fact that they had moved it forward 5
months, she was unable to get out of bed. Even with oxygen tanks,
she was fighting for every breath. As I sat by her bedside, wanting
nothing more than to be able to breath for her, I felt helpless in a
way I never had before. I was overwhelmed with love and grief at the
same time. Life had never felt so precarious and precious to me. I
can still see her looking at me, her eyes shining with love. I can
still feel the joy and gratitude of sharing that timeless moment
with her, knowing that it would likely be our last.
That moment became an open door for me and a new world of experience
came into view. All the answers and insights of my spiritual
questing and meditation took on a new shape and character. Spirit
was no longer something transcendent and distant, but immediate and
deeply human. Instead of a magical, otherworldly realm divorced from
my material and social worlds, spirituality was at the heart of my
daily life. It was infused in my desires, my love, and my fears; my
relationships, my environment, and my work. It was the source of all
the meaning, purpose, and vision I experienced. Spirit became the
center and foundation of my life, a life I am thankful to be living.
Mark Michael Lewis
