As part of being on the road, I meet some interesting folks. Feel free to interpret ‘Interesting’ any way you like – as I don’t mean it as any more than a genuine curiosity about others.
Recently I decided to spend summer in Tasmania, the most southerly state of Australia. Here on the West Coast, with isolated services (no retail like Kmart, Coles, Woolworths etc is available unless you drive two hours away) local entertainment largely centres around gossip – who is doing what, where and how. That said, people here are warm, generous, and always willing to help with all kinds of queries.
Services in this town include:
one pharmacy,
one independent supermarket,
one greasy diner,
one primary school,
one police station – you get the picture. Oh, and yes there are helping hands from the only church.
Upon arriving in this small town on the western coast of Tasmania, I was invited to a local’s home for a bit of ’grub’ – that’s colloquial for dinner. The last time I was here, I was treated to their generous hospitality and the company of an exuberant Wolf Hound named Merlin. But I digress.
What was so interesting about this dinner was learning about the religious leanings of the host and hostess. Initially, I thought the host was tipsy when he mentioned he was an ordained minister … in the church … of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
I laughed at his earnestness until I followed him into their sitting room. Hanging on the wall was a framed certificate. Giggling, he removed it, turned it over and showed me it was a certificate of ordination. There, in black and white, was his name as an official member of the Church of FSM – Flying Spaghetti Monster. Indeed, he was a Pastafarian (see below for the definition). Their persistent laughter suggested I may be the butt of an ‘in’ joke, but really, they wanted to share their delight in finding a tribe that meets them where they are.
I will admit, my serious side took a moment to process the notion of this church. As someone who has explored faith in many forms – from the Mormon church to an Indian ashram to teaching crystals and tarot – I wasn’t prepared for such a noodly theology!
I neither teach what I believe or insist that others believe what I think, feel and believe when it comes to spirituality. My motto when it comes to religion or spiritual ways is – live and let live. I practise that as a way of life – and one of my few expectations in life is that others respect me enough to practice it too.
So, judgement aside, I was askance when the Gospel of The Flying Spaghetti Monster was pushed into my hands at dinner and my hosts insisted that I take it and read it – with the proviso (more like a promise) to return it.
Having just flicked through it I can tell you their foundation belief is a Noodle based God created the universe and the followers of this church are called Pastafarians – a humorous jibe certainly. And their Heaven holds both a Stripper Factory and a giant Beer Volcano. Add to these notions, the idea that natural selection is really sexual selection and … well, the Gospel of the Church of the FSM makes for rather intriguing reading.
The official dress code in this church is full pirate regalia – perfect!
Their fundamental truth?
They stand for all that is good and are against all that is not good.
Simple, right?
I like it.
The cheeky references to sex and sexuality together with the complete lampooning of any ideas sourced in religion, as most of us know it, suggests this is not your usual church. Still, he is officially ordained to perform weddings and funerals as a minister of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Go figure!
Each to their own, I say. Far be it for me to disrespect anyone’s beliefs – it seems those who subscribe to this Church are seeking humour rather than spirituality and if that is what seekers want, then the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster is the right place for them to land – pun intended!
My host’s insistence that scientists subscribe to this church was a cheeky way to validate the intellectual substance of this noodly church. But for him and his wife it appeared to be more of a light hearted lark introducing the newest visitor to an alien concept (no pun intended) than sharing beliefs in anything larger than themselves.
That said, I found it highly amusing to discover this little corner of the world where pasta, humour and religion intersect. Being on the road for the last year and a half has introduced me to people and ideas that sit beyond the realm of my once ordinary life.
Against the backdrop of the Church of the FSM is the deeper knowing that everyone has a right to their beliefs and the most humbling aspect is that those I meet along the way generously share themselves and their ideas.
Times like these remind me that being on the road is not just about travel – it is also about hearing stories and realising how each story confirms, shifts, or challenges who I am on this incredible journey of life on the road. Amen to Pasta!
Image generated by AI
Christine Writer 