Devonne Brown

Jung says, “No matter what the world thinks about religious experience, the one who has it possesses a great treasure, a thing that has for him become a source of life, meaning and beauty, and that has given a new splendor to the world.”

I’ve experienced many denominations of religious faith in my life. The best experience any of them had to offer me was the potluck at the end of the service or on a Wednesday night after choir rehearsal. 

Church was always a Sunday two hour babysitting service for Mom and Dad, an opportunity to dress my sister and I up like dolls and send us off to look pretty in public. Sometimes Mom would join us after Sunday school for the actual pomp and circumstance.

My last foray into Christianity was Catholicism, a last ditch effort for Mom to save me after a nasty breach of holiness. I broke a big commandment, committed a huge sin, and got railroaded into joining the Catholic Church. I was baptized, communionized, confessionalized, and damn near canonized by the priest who didn’t quite know what to do with me. My sin scared the bejesus out of him. Believe me when I tell you that joining the Catholic church isn’t the big deal everyone says it is. I am an official recovering candle carrying Catholic with only two or three catechism lessons under my belt.

I did join a church in North Carolina that gave me the experience I sought. A metaphysical church that believed and bestowed the teachings of Christ as well as communicated with the spirit world. It was there I felt the small still voice. I came to believe that we are the temples of the Holy Spirit. When I look into your eyes, I see the eyes of God.