I just got back from possibly the most ridiculous experience I've had in Savannah. I went to what was advertised as a vigil called "United in Prayer for Immigration Reform" in Port Wentworth, right down the street from my church.
To start, I got there at the actual time it was set to start because I was told there would be lots of groups there and since I didn't know where the building was, I didn't want to be ridiculously late. However, when I arrived, there were only a handful of cars in the parking lot and I was very obviously the only gringa to be found. I'm kind of used to looking like "a beacon of white in a sea of brown" (as I've been described by a friend), but this was the first time in many months where I didn't know any of the Hispanics around me. A nice Colombian man started chatting it up with me as we waited for nearly an hour for other people to arrive.
As I looked around the community gymnasium that we were using, I couldn't help but chuckle. It was completely decorated in red, white, and blue, presumably for the celebration of Independence Day tomorrow. The podium where I assumed our speakers would be had a plaque that said "Port Wentworth, the Stand Up for America City." I even learned that Port Wentworth's team name is the Patriots, and they use the exact same emblem as my favorite football team.
When the service finally started (I don't think I'll ever adjust to Latin time...), it immediately became clear to me that this was going to be more about prayer and less about immigration reform. The opening speaker was yelling into the microphone about the liberation of God's people while a Latino man strummed a guitar behind her and the majority of the audience was standing with their arms raised, mumbling prayers to themselves. Most of the individuals in the small group were holding their bibles and wearing rosary beads. To our left was a small adoration chapel, where one of the 5 people who was there from my parish was reminding people to sign up so as not to "leave the Lord alone." I found it pretty amusing that there was a sign outside the little make-shift chapel that said "Silencio", even though there were microphones and musical instruments set up about 100 yards from the door.
As people were saying their amens and wiping away tears, I was reminded of an article I recently read in my "Reader in Latina Feminist Theology" entitled "Perception Matters: Pentecostal Latinas in Allentown, PA." It seems that many economically poor Hispanics/Latinos are becoming divided in their faith. While some are leaning towards a more leftist theology of liberation, others are joining more conservative religious factions. The article points out that although some people (such as myself) think the latter group is crazy, it attracts many because of its focus on participation in the private sphere of home life and forsaking the private sphere of potential vices.
I used to consider myself a conservative, slightly charismatic Catholic. In high school and even into my first year of college, I loved praise and worship, Eucharistic adoration, daily Mass, etc. My own faith changed for a variety of reasons, but even still, I can understand how easy it is to get wrapped up in the song, dance, and overwhelming feeling of love that a big group of people praising God can yield.
This evening, being in the gymnasium utterly frightened me. After the speaker gave a little testimony, a group called "La Música de Dios" (or something similar) started playing some pretty intense Christian music. As people were becoming captivated, all I could think about was how religion really can become an opiate of the masses. I certainly believe in prayer and in the importance of community, but this was going a bit over-board for me. Maybe people are convinced that if they worship God in a particular way, then they will be spared from things like unjust immigration policies. I don't really know, but that's kind of what it seemed like to me tonight.
I've been struggling with how to define my faith lately. I don't know if I can consider myself Catholic, since I disagree with more tenets than I agree with. I feel like I'm searching for a sense of belonging for my spirituality, yet keep coming up empty-handed. (Funny story: my boss told me in my final evaluation that I need to improve my relationship with God. I wish I could describe how awkward the moment was, since she knows absolutely nothing about my faith life...) All I know, though, is that waves of very fundamentalist Christians scare me and make me uncomfortable in a way that is very rare.
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