I grew up in a traditional Baptist family that gave me much love as well as a solid introduction to God for which I am so thankful. From a very early age I felt a deep and abiding connection to Christ even as my understanding of exactly who he was and what he represented was still forming. Of course, time and experience eventually brought me to the Sophian path, or The Way.

My dad’s faith and devotion to God was strong. In the second half of his life he became an ordained Baptist minister and fulfilled his lifelong dream of bringing the Word from the pulpit. My mom’s own faithfulness was great and she received visions from God. While I think my dad would have had some difficulty with understanding why or how I ended up on this path, I also know that he would be open to discuss it with me and to at least consider it with an open mind and heart. My mom has already opened herself up to it and, although she can’t agree with all of it, she knows that it’s a true path of the heart. That, in fact, is the reason she’s told me that she’s so open to discussing it with my husband and myself.
All of this brings me to our current world and something I haven’t discussed on this blog before.
We live in a world made smaller by the information superhighway that, really, just began streaming into our lives 15 short years ago through a technology that’s proliferated like the wildest forest fire. We live in a global community that has gotten even smaller as a result. About 15 years before that, the dissension which some have referred to as America’s "cultural wars” began as politics and religion became the calling card for many Protestant churches. From election to election, from hot button issue to hot button issue, a culture based in fear of “the other” became increasingly apparent from both sides of the aisle. As a result, at some point we forgot to remember that the so-called “other” is also our brother and our sister.
We've forgotten that no matter how much we may disagree with one another, we are united in our humanity as One.
Many have either forgotten how or simply refuse to imagine themselves walking in the shoes of their brothers and sisters. Those whose spiritual journeys have taken them away from the traditional church are seen as threatening to a way of life that feels as comfortable as a warm country breakfast on a cold Southern morning. This is a culture less familiar with the cultural influences wrought by the age of globalization and diversity. On the other hand, those who either grew up or become acquainted with a more global or eclectic worldview, don’t understand those who seem unwilling to listen to them or understand what they have to say.
But maybe the key is for each one of us to begin listening to our brothers and sisters in the traditional church. That doesn’t mean we deny what we believe. It means we listen to them as individuals, respecting them and where their roots reach deep into the earth because that’s where their existence and perception of reality is formed. Very often their sense of integrity and family are held as central to their survival along with a faith in God that is as beautiful as it is real. Let’s come to know them as individuals first and share our own stories when they are ready to hear and ask questions.
From this space – and I realize this is a very generic, brief overview of how we talk and relate to our traditional brethren – the idea of “the other” can disappear as well it should because “the other” is born out of a belief in separation that is mere illusion. In Spirit we are already united as One and there is no such thing as our spiritual “other.” Let’s appreciate that we’re all on different places in our journeys and celebrate this as a part of the ever-becoming.
In short, let's not reduce our brothers and sisters to some fundamentalist label... because they're much more than that, and this holds true even when we don't always feel it.
One of the most spiritual people I have ever known is a beautifully-spirited Baptist woman whose face glows with inner knowing and peace. Most of her beliefs are traditional but she walks with God in these Appalachian hills as surely as she lives and breathes.