The Door

 I was conceived Catholic. My mother had grown up a member of the St Joseph Catholic Church in North English, Iowa & when her and my father first got together, this is the religious path that they took.  When my sister was born in 1982, she was baptized Catholic & a man I don't believe she's ever met, Terry Seip (I've met him twice myself) became her Godfather. I was always curious as a child why Sara had a Godfather and why I didn't. I guess my Dad who grew up going to the Hayesville Church (Which I don't even know if it is there anymore) wasn't too keen on the way that Catholics did things. So sometime before the 22nd of May, 1985 they switched it up & became Methodists. 

Long before I ever had any real conscious idea of what Christianity was or took a deep inner analysis, I was being held in my mother's arms in the pews of the Sigourney Methodist Church. So I guess in some ways it is fair to say that I was born Christian, specifically Methodist. When people inquire when I became agnostic, I usually answer June of 2007.  Consciously that is an accurate answer, but I wonder if sometimes my entire life I was an agnostic, but I just didn't know it. 

I can remember being really little & listening to other people talk about God. I can remember sitting in the pews with my mother at Church & listening to our pastor Danny Lemons speak of all of the great things God had done. Of how someone had a scare with cancer, and now because of God they were ok. How someone else had lost their job, but God helped them find one better. How this guy had gotten in a car accident, but God kept them safe. How this girl had fallen off a boat, but God saved her from drowning. This God sounded like a really cool guy to me. I wanted to meet him. I wanted to shake his hand and give him a hug. 

"God is here with us!" Danny would state it loud and clear as I looked about the room. I looked all over. If he was there with us, then where in the Hell was he? I wanted to see him. I wanted to see what he looked like. Point him out. Have him come up to the front of the room and introduce himself.  

There was a man that used to sit all by himself in the far corner of the room. I'd find out years later the real reason he always sat alone was because he didn't bathe & he stunk to high Heavens. No one wanted to sit next to him or better put, even if they wanted to be friendly, their noses strictly forbid it. At the time though, I thought maybe he was God. I remember asking my mother once. 

"Is that man God?" I asked her

"Be quiet!" Was the answer I received. 

I didn't think he was God. After all he didn't have a beard.  I just couldn't picture God without a beard. God had to have a beard. Besides that he wore glasses. Danny & everyone else kept saying that God was perfect and a perfect man wouldn't wear glasses.  

During our songs, Danny would leave the room. He'd open up this door, close it behind him & then he'd come out once we were done singing. I was 100% positive that it had to be where God was. I figured for one reason or another God was in this room. I pictured Danny going in there and discussing with God what he was going to do next in the service. It made me think of God in the same way as I thought of the principal at my sister's school. He might come out if he absolutely has to, but for the most part he was going to sit in his office and do his work from there. 

I made up my mind one day, that I was going into that room. I knew God was in there and I was going to see him. 

After the service, every Sunday we'd go down into the Church basement.  One one side the adults would get snacks and drinks, as they sat around tables visiting. On the other side, the kids would gather around a TV watching McGee and Me videos, or play with toys. I figured this was my chance to sneak up stairs, go into that room and get a glimpse of God. 

I did a good job of sneaking back upstairs, but when I got up there, I began to shake with fear. What if God didn't want me to see him? What if he was busy and I was disturbing him? I know how angry my Dad could get with me when I bothered him when he didn't want to be bothered.  Was God gonna get mad when I walked in on him? Would he blow up at me the way my Dad sometimes did?  

I walked all around the room & checked places I knew God wasn't. The room had a balcony with some rooms in it & checked them simply to waste time if nothing else. I had exhausted every crook and cranny of that entire space until all that was left was that single door, that I was almost certain God was behind.  

I stood by that door for what felt like an eternity. My heart raced 1,000 beats per second. I shook with fear of the unknown.  I reached out and put my hand on the door handle. 

"Stephen!" 

I turned. It was Dick Coffman, one of the members of the Church. 

"What are you doing up here?" He asked. "We've been looking all over for you. Come on." 

In a way I was relieved. For all I knew maybe Dick saved me from getting in trouble. Yet I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had I opened up the door that day. 

Years would go by, decades. I was no longer a curious 5 year old full of wonder and ponder. I was now a 23 year old adult, who had explored the depths of my curiosity. I was out hanging with my good friend Andrew Nieuwsma, whose mom worked for the Methodist Church. At this point in my life, I hadn't been in the building in years. Probably close to 10 years. 

When I went in with him, I told him that I was gonna go walk around for a minute. The Church was empty other than me, him & his mother. I knew how silly it was, but now that I had the chance, I had to see what was finally behind that door. I had to know.  

Call me crazy and in many ways, I'd have no defense. I suppose it's the true possiblistic agnostic that I am. I believe in the realms of possibility, entertaining all ideas, being allegiant to none. In terms of the unknown, certainty is rare. So is it insane to think that a small part of me still though that God might be behind that door? Of course it is, but a part of me did still think that.  When I reached out for that door handle, I still shook with anticipation. I still hesitated with fear. 

Before I turned the knob, I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax. I closed my eyes as it opened, having to summon up the courage to open them again. It was nothing at all like I had imagined.  It was a small, simple room. Hardly big enough for one person, let alone two. Even if God had been there, I don't know how he and Danny would have fit at the same time. It was a small rack for a coat, a desk with some stationary and a chair. A door on the other side that led to a staircase that I had always wondered where in the world it went. For close to twenty years I wondered where this door led, thinking it might be a gateway to Heaven itself, and in reality it was about the size of a broom closet.