Vito's Ordination Song

Driving up last Thursday, Vito's Ordination Song by Sufjan Stevens began playing. At the end, it just repeats the following four lines over and over, in the most comforting voice imaginable:

Rest in my arms
Sleep in my bed
There's a design
To what I did and said

Ostensibly the song is about Sufjan telling his friend, Vito, the depth of his love for him, and in fact comparing it to Christ's love. But, when I heard that, the longing I had for those lyrics to be true, for there to be a God singing to me "Rest, there's a design," it was simply overwhelming. I nearly cried, driving up Rt. 44 in Barkhamsted.

I'm not a religious man. But lately, this whole depression thing has made me wish I was one. The idea that, despite all that has gone on, there's a design to this, that I don't have to worry or despair because while things may be bad now, it's for the best, and I just need to trust in something more powerful than myself, that idea spoke directly to me. It's exactly what I want to be true, and exactly what I felt wasn't true. My world had lost all order, and I was powerless. Even thinking about it now is making me emotional.

When I was a child, my parents would come in to pick up the pieces. Now, they can help with money, but my problems are my own. I want some sort of authority figure to come in, pat me on the head, tell me everything's ok, and let me rest. Maybe it's part of becoming a man, but I want to be taken care of, and I'm struggling with letting go and learning how to be self-reliant.

I've even strongly considered going to church. I still intend to. During a particularly bad mood, I made a promise that if things turned around today, I would begin to attend, and that day they did. I'm not saying God heard me, but I am respectful enough that I decided I need to go.

See, here's the thing. If there's one thing I'm missing in my life, it's a support network I can rely on. It used to be my friends, but they're far away now. I want to feel like I have people to talk to, people who love me. I know I do, but, and I can't really explain it, I feel like church would help. It's the whole community thing - to know that there's a room full of people who care about you, simply because it's the right thing to do. To know that there's a guy, a pastor or whatever, who would freely do whatever he can to help me, simply out of love for his fellow man -- well, that's a powerful thing.

Of course, it would need to be the right church, and the right pastor. I would need to shop around for a bit. But having heard stories, and having seen my evangelical relatives, I think what I'm looking for is a pastor who is faithful because of Jesus's love. He feels overwhelming love, and wants to imbue you with that love. The political side of my evangelical relatives can be ugly, but the love they have for everyone and everything on this planet is incredible, and it's not something I see in my secular life.

But yes, I have begun to flirt with religion, if only for the comfort it gives. I'm not sure I can bring myself to believe in the existence of an omnipotent being, or that Jesus was magical. But let me tell you what I can believe in.

If a group of people take Jesus's teaching's seriously, and support eachother, help eachother and those around them, truly love them for who they are, and fight injustice, help the needy, the poor, the weak, etc., if a group of people try to learn from this man's teachings, then you can rest in God's arms, sleep soundly, because God is in each and every one of those souls. You don't need an omnipotent being when you have eachother.


I think I'm going to attend a few services while I'm in Europe. And I think I'll meet up with that evangelist in Bejing my cousins know. Maybe I'll find myself closer to God.