All the Faith You Can Buy

I want to write about my spiritual life, but will that make for good Content?

Content says “Make it marketable, make it relatable. Don’t offend anyone—unless you can offend someone really well, because that generates clicks!”

And my Conscience is there, too, pecking at me, like an irate bluebird. “Is your faith really supposed to be aired out for everyone to gawk at?” 

But I mean, it seems these days everything is aired out, for others to gawk at…

“Roll on up, for my price is down,

Come on in for the best in town

Take your pick of the finest wines!

Lay your bets on this bird of mine…”

It’s a crass, commercialist world out there. Full of junk and full of noise. 

You want to take your concerns to God? Well, sure! Just head down to the heart of the financial district—the cathedral is big and shiny with an in-house gift shop. You can’t miss it!

I mean to say, it doesn’t take a fan of The Righteous Gemstones (available only on HBO) in order to figure out that religion, too, is a big old industry. Movies and newspapers and Christian romance (including bonnet-rippers); pilgrimages and televangelism, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. 

“Roll on up, Jerusalem,

Here it is, it’s us and them

While our Temple still survives

We, at least, are still alive…” 

And I’m a California girl, to boot. California is associated with a hippie, New Age, nebulous concept of unending self-improvement, in realms spiritual, mental, and physical. That means— incense, crystal grids, color-sanctified candles, and yoga retreats—those are my birthrights. 

But I’m trying very hard not to fall into a trap.

Namely, the trap of thinking you can shop your way into enlightenment.

“What you see is what you get,

No one’s been disappointed yet,

Don’t be scared, give me a try—

There is nothing you can’t buy.” 

(Jesus Christ Superstar)

Let me put this very simply. Atheism is not for me. 

For me, mental health includes spiritual health. 

So God is a presence in my life. 

Uh… what kind of a presence? 

Some recent books I’ve read on the topic of God include “Beyond God the Father: Towards a Philosophy of Women’s Liberation,” by Mary Daly; “The Red-Haired Girl from the Bog,” by Patricia Monaghan; and “She Who Changes: Re-Imagining the Divine in the World,” by Carol P. Christ. Are you noticing a theme?

The first thing is that I think of God as Goddess. It’s hard to alter a lifetime’s habit of thinking of God as a big tall fella with a big white beard, but the Goddess calls me in ways I cannot really put into words. 

I mean, I try.

That’s a great first step. What’s next? 

Mary Daly says we must think of Goddess as a verb. 

Ah, darn.

God(dess) is in the movement of all energy through the universe. Slow movement, like trees growing, and swift, like lightning flashing. 

But does that mean there is no person of God(dess)?

Philip Pullman may roll his eyes, but I say, yes, there is.

Mary Daly may be disappointed, but to me, God can be a noun and a verb. 

And what more can I say with certainty? Not a whole lot. 

I feel weird even confessing this online, to a vague mob of readers. It’s bad enough trying to talk about spirituality in real life, when I know that my cherry-picked, hand-cobbled personal beliefs are not likely to meet an exact match.

It’s kind of like Shel Silverstein said. “All the magic I have known, I’ve had to make myself.” 

So, I drew this: 

I drew this picture in late April of 2022. The main character is Morgaine, called “le Fay,” the dreaded sorceress of Arthurian mythos, but also the complicated and brave heroine of The Mists of Avalon (I’m citing the 2001 miniseries, directed by Uli Edel and adapted from the book by Marion Zimmer Bradley). Here, Morgaine opens her mouth, ready to utter a spell, or else to relate her own version of events— Is there much of a difference? Sondheim did say, “Careful the tale you tell, that is the spell.” 

A waning moon rises behind her. A cycle is coming to an end, it is time to return the sword to the Lake. 

Behind Morgaine lurks the Dragon, the unseen force that moves through the shadows of Excalibur (1981) directed by John Boorman. The Dragon is the force of nature, it is implacable and wild magic. The spines of its back blend in with the pine needles; it twines around the witch and arches into the sky, and back into earth. I love dragons, not least because they remind me of a dear friend in St. Louis. 

Before her sits a Hare, which my Dictionary of Symbols tells me is the symbol of the Moon goddess, Hekate. I can wonder if that has something to do with the fable of the Tortoise and the Hare. The Tortoise is sometimes the foundation of the World; maybe Aesop’s fable is the barest, faded rags of what was once a complicated myth about movement, the earth and the moon, and the force of change in our world. 

I don’t know, but isn’t it interesting to think about? 

My spiritual life is a journey through terrain that is constantly shifting. Right now I am backpacking through hills and forests. I am following the flight of swans. I am embarking across a lake in a little canoe, following the mists in their depths. Send me to Caerleon. Send me to Avalon. I am on pilgrimage.

I discovered a quote on the Wikipedia page for “Spiritual Tourism,” by Fr. Frank Fahey. He said, “Every pilgrim is at risk of becoming a tourist, and every tourist is at risk of becoming a pilgrim.” 

And that kind of ties into what I was saying earlier; it’s very easy to think you can shop your way to enlightenment. My quest, then, asks me to be comfortable with doubt and the lack of answers. Negative capability, as J. Keats might have said. To be an open mind, but not necessarily an open wallet. 

My pilgrimage began very early, and continues into a future I can’t see. I am searching for meaning and truth. I may never find either; that’s okay, the journey is what matters. Asking questions and examining the world in new ways, that’s what matters. To be awake to the beauty of the world. 

A final note, added on May 2, 2022, when an initial draft of a majority opinion has been leaked to the press—a majority opinion that the Supreme Court ought to overturn Roe v. Wade. Reproductive freedom is one of the cornerstones of women’s liberation.

I will never apologize for centering women in my activism. 

I will never apologize for loving the Goddess in all Her manifestations. 

I will use my voice to speak up for my Goddess and my sisters. 

And my anger is as sacred as the rest of me. 

… you can’t raise hell with a saint…