Easter and Christmas for Possibilians

Neuroscientist David Eagleman says this about religion: "Our ignorance of the cosmos is too vast to commit to atheism, and yet we know too much to commit to a particular religion. A third position, agnosticism, is often an uninteresting stance in which a person simply questions whether his traditional religious story (say, a man with a beard on a cloud) is true or not true. But with Possibilianism I'm hoping to define a new position — one that emphasizes the exploration of new, unconsidered possibilities. Possibilianism is comfortable holding multiple ideas in mind; it is not interested in committing to any particular story." 

This stance I find particularly appealing, so I consider myself a Possibilian, which, in my mind, is a very generous way to approach religion. However, I was raised Catholic. As a result, Christmas and Easter are emotionally complicated.

Wrapped up in all the brightly colored memories of baskets packed with hollow chocolate bunnies, Peeps, and stuffed animals is the story of how Jesus saved my soul through personal sacrifice. Wrapped up in all the flavors of jelly beans, Cadbury Creme Eggs, and those pastel -colored candy eggs with marshmallow inside are sweet memories of taking palms to the cemetery, going to mass in a yellow dress and bonnet, and sitting down for a meal that was not about candy but was about family and religion. All the beliefs that bolstered the holiday and gave it weight. 

The same was true for Christmas: All the "magic" of Santa Claus and a boatload of presents paled in comparison to the carols sung in Jesus's name, to the story of his birth (Do you remember that scene in the Charlie Brown Christmas special?), and to the nativity scenes shimmering in the snow and white Christmas lights outside the various churches. 

It's all past-tense now, and lives in my memory as bittersweet nostalgia for when I could believe without question. This would be fine to live with during the holidays when I want to recapture something special, but all I'm left with is the difficult decision of whether to chose traditional jelly beans or something more dynamic in flavor. The problem is that now I have a child, and my husband and I have to decide how to approach religion. 

Some parents choose to hand down religion. This is how I came to be raised Catholic. Yet I'm not going to foist a religion on Dexter, especially since I'm skeptical of organized doctrines and frightened by dogma. On the other hand, what is wrong with some kind of gentle introduction to a system of beliefs that he can chose to adopt or dismiss when he gets old enough to make those decisions?

Dexter goes to an Episcopalian preschool, and his Easter party is next week. I have volunteered to bring fruit to the party, and I'm hoping Dexter eats more fruit than candy. I know that St. Mark's offers the children a very simple introduction to the story of Jesus. Dexter is being introduced to Christianity, and it doesn't really trouble me, even if I largely don't buy into it anymore. I at least like the inclusiveness of the Episcopal church. And frankly, I would rather my son had some foundation for the holidays: something that lends them gravitas. It was why they mattered when I was a child. 

Does this mean that he might become a church member? I don't know. He might reject it all when too many questions remain unanswered by religion. I suppose that's the deal with faith, which is a hard pill to swallow. He's also welcome to choose religion; I just hope he chooses one that reflects the kind of values we care about in our home, which tend to be humanist and progressive. Can a religion uphold such secular values while still preaching Christian ideals? I suppose anything is possible.