The Church of Not Being Horrible

I knew nothing about John Pavlovitz when I came upon his essay, "The Church of Not Being Horrible." Written almost a year ago, the post is part of his blog, Stuff That Needs to Be Said. In the church that he invented, there is a brief mission statement: "Don't be horrible to people." As a member of the church, you are required to ask and answer a central question, as often as necessary: "Am I being horrible right now?"

Pavlovitz was, at one time, a pastor in one of those mega-churches . . . until he got fired. "You don't fit here," he was told. Since then, Pavlovitz has gone on to be a blogger, a book author, a twitter god, and an inspiration to many. That's all I know about him, but it's necessary that I credit him with the invention of this church.

I am a recovering Catholic. I am not stating that snidely. While I might be able to credit the Church with some part of my sense of right and wrong, I can also assert that they did so through the tools of guilt, intimidation, and fear. There is still a little girl in me begging her father to please go to church on Sunday, lest he perish in the fires of hell. No kid wants to be plagued by nightmares of a parent burning up in an endless field of fire. I do not wish to criticize anyone for whom the Church (Catholic or otherwise) is an important component of his/her life. I'm just saying it did not work for me. My choice was to find my own path, stumbling along, encountering forks, maybe backtracking here and there, never really knowing what's at the end of the path, but forging ahead with hope anyway. I do not expect to find "the answer" in this lifetime, but I will search for it regardless.

So The Church of Not Being Horrible seems like a good place to stop along the way. Am I horrible? I don't think so. Have I done horrible things in my life? Of course. Can I compensate for those things with some random acts of kindness? I sure hope so.

There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground. (My most-often quoted Rumi wisdom.) There are many paths. And although we can each travel a different one, I think we should all worship at The Church of Not Being Horrible. There are no bibles, no candles, no choirs, no pews, no incense, no prayers, no confessions, no penance, no communions, no sacraments, no blessings, no clergy, no nuns, no crucifixes, no saints, no relics, no sacristies, no altars, no holy water, and no fires of hell.

Only kindness matters.

Chihuly, Seattle Center, July 2017