Now That I'm Forty...


Born in New York and now going to die in New York. Someday.

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Now That I'm Forty...

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Sunday, January 25, 2004

Happy Sunday, Everyone!
I finished the book. It was as well-written as the Kinsey Millhone series by Sue Grafton. I did find, though, that the requisite deaths occurred with a much more powerful impact in "No Time To Die" than in many other mysteries that I've read. I wonder if it had much to do with my own ethnicity and ties to Harlem? But oh, how the characters grieved in this book. This set the tone for me and why it was unsettling.

Speaking of mysteries in Harlem, I haven't found out anything about the dead body they took out of the building some doors up the block from me. Then again, I haven't asked any questions either. I'm not an amateur sleuth. I don't have a "hook" into that mystery. But say something happened to the sax player next door? Yes, I would ask questions and see what I could find because she's fascinating and it would be a shame to have her pass out of this life without some kind of attempt from the living to mark it.

Meanwhile, I made a nice benchmark today. I went to church for the first time since I moved in. I used to make trips on some Sundays from Trenton, more like a lark, with an eye towards trying a weekly thing, but I have since found that I'd never have really done it. Not if it took me this long to go, when I live right here.

Why the hesitation? Because all my former experience with church, biblical eduaction, and ministry have left me bruised. When I enterred into formalized worship I did so with both feet and a few other limbs. There is a flavor of Christianity called "Holiness". This is when the Christians are taught to obey outward dress and literal interpretation of the Bible in addition to salvation and worship. It takes a forceful personality to control a church full of people who live in the 20th century and require them to dress as though they lived in the 18th. Growing up without my father, I was, and still am drawn to that type of personality. Well, I've given more than a decade of my life to men like these. In Missouri, I learned that it was a bad mistake to give that kind of loyalty to Humans Like Myself.

In Missouri, Holiness Christians can more easily live 18th century lives because their culture isn't so far removed from those days. I wish I had known that before I carried my black butt out there. I thought I'd be widely accepted, hugged, even treated a little special for my uniqueness. Well, I was hugged. And I was treated specially--in a special education type of way. But accepted? No. I never was. They could not take the wall down between black and white. Many, if not most of them believed God would not have blacks and whites marry.

See, you thought I was joking about the time displacement.

The more they limited me by virtue of my race, the more I realized how Human they really were, as opposed to the Divine that I've been searching for. Fallen, racist, ignorant Humans. And I payed 8 years of my life to find that out. I can take responsibility for choosing to go out there, but I can't take it all. I went in faith believing they meant the Christianity they proposed. I was wrong. For that, they will receive the judgment, but I got the curse.

Now, close to Forty, I'm trying to restart. I've come home to NYC. I'm actively working on the bod. And I'm trying to get back to church. But do I trust the men in the pulpits I visit? Do I trust the congrgations who fill these churches? Am I safe with them here in New York?

Right now, I'm looking to build my spirit back up, and get my worship on. I should never have depended on Humans to begin with. But I still think I need a church to operate from and the sound of preaching to teach me. Too bad Humans are involved.

Me at 1/25/2004 01:56:00 PM