The Bus-Stop

The Bus-Stop

I did something this past weekend that I never in a million years would have thought I would do.  I went to a Christian retreat.  I mentioned before that I had been taking a class on Christianity and it was essentially a Bible class.  I attended because I know precious little about the Christian faith and I was questioning my former indifference to something I don't truly understand.
I have thoroughly enjoyed the class, which is now coming to a close and the retreat was a bit like the graduation weekend.  I wasn't sure that I would attend the weekend when I started the class, but I made a decision early on to go all-in and I am so very glad that I did.
The retreat was held near Lancaster, PA and was on a beautiful campus grounds.  I had thought we would be at a hotel where reservations had been set aside, a bit like attending a convention, but no, this was an entire complex dedicated to such Christian Retreats...  As naive as I am I did not even know that such places existed.
Check-in was Friday night followed by the first sermon.  After the sermon we had time to mingle and discuss what we had just heard.  Saturday morning saw breakfast and another sermon followed by a guided discussion and break, another sermon followed by worship.  I wasn't sure what "worship" meant exactly, but assumed it was time set aside for quite prayer and reflection.  I was wrong but I will get back to that in a moment.  We had lunch and some free time before the final sermon and discussion followed by testimonials and a parting group photo.
The people surrounding me were all so blatantly happy and seemingly at peace.  Everyone I met was very kind and treated me with respect and with honest love and care.  These people all believed so strongly in something I still wrestle to accept.  They are so steadfast in their faith and I almost envy their surety.  They had me very comfortable up until the "worship" portion of the day.
During this timeframe, we all got in small circles and began to pray.  People were praying loudly for one another and this particular group of Christians practiced the "laying of hands" where the person being prayed for was encircled and everyone put their hands on them.  This was so foreign to me and I will admit I was really uncomfortable.  I saw many people in tears from the sheer intensity of the situation.  Now, I am an emotional person and I cry very easily so I was surprised that I did not feel anything but discomfort when it came time for me to be prayed for.  The Pastor came over when he caught me with my head up and eyes open looking around the room.  I felt like a naughty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  He came over at that point and asked if he could pray for me.  I was embarrassed but said yes.
He put his hand on my shoulder and proceeded to tell me what he saw as my struggles.  He mentioned several things that resonated with me and all of them fit my current situation in life.  He talked about my concerns for my kids and how he saw me in a maze struggling to find a way out, among other things.  I was so pre-occupied with my discomfort that it wasn't until later that I realized this man does not know me at all... So how did he know I had children?  It gave me chills and pause to think deeply about the experience.
Let me share a quote from Penn Jillette, of the magician duo, Penn and Teller that the pastor read to us during one of the first of the lessons of the class I took.  Penn Jillete is a devout atheist.
"I've always said that I don't respect people who don't proselytize.  I don't respect that at all.  If you believe that there is a heaven and a hell, and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life, and you think that it's not really worth telling them this because it would make it socially awkward - and atheists who think people should'g proselytize and who say just leave me alone and keep your religion to yourself - how much do you have to hate someone to NOT proselytize?  How much do you have to hate somebody to believe everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?  I mean, if I believed, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that a truck is coming at you, and you don't believe that the truck was bearing down on you, there is a certain point where I tackle you."
I ended the week end still not seeing the bus, but feeling as though these people cared and loved me, a stranger, enough to try and tackle me.  It is a powerful thing to have perfect strangers pray so ardently for you, believing they are helping someone they don't know.  I am still unclear on what I believe about Jesus and God, but I am very glad I went and met these beautiful people.  Perhaps this just isn't my bus-stop.