I seldom talk about my religious/spiritual beliefs, but living in the Middle East surrounded by historical religious sites and people who have strong religious identities has encouraged me to be more contemplative about what I believe and why.
It has always been difficult for me to talk about faith. I have so many more questions than I have answers. So many people have been oppressed by others in "The Name of God," and those who have strong opinions usually will defend them aggressively. In many of my social circles, religion is a bad word, and the idea of having faith in something that can't be proven through science or reason is laughed at. Religious belief seems to be a uniquely human trait - and often a troublesome one - yet I have never found the idea of atheism appealing or, for that matter, any more convincing than the idea that there is some kind of Spiritual Truth out there that gives meaning to life.
It doesn't really matter what you call God in your religion, it seems that although most religions share many beliefs in common, the most damning belief that is widely shared among faiths can be summarized as: "We, the _____, are God's chosen people/righteous ones, our faith is the true faith, and if you do not believe as we do, and it is our responsibility to kill you/punish you/or at least banish you far away from us."
Is there really any wonder why there is no peace when there is so much self-righteousness? Is there any wonder why so many people who might be interested in exploring their spirituality would shun organized religion when it spreads that seed of hate?
Growing up in Iowa, I had lots of exposure to different types of Christianity and little else. My grandparents are particularly devout members of an evangelical Protestant church, but my parents (children of the 60s and came of age in the 70s) were pretty secular. I grew up in a Santa Claus and Easter Bunny, non-church-going family, and was periodically taught the fundamentals of the Bible when I visited my grandparents or on rare occasions, attended church (Catholic, Methodist, Lutheran or Mennonite) with a friend from school. In small-town Iowa, not going to church was a little unusual, but most of my friends complained about "having to get up early" or "going to lame Religious Ed classes", so I did not really feel like I was missing out on much, and I wasn't going to submit to the pressure to "accept the Lord Jesus as my Savior," in spite of the prayers and good intentions I think the people who applied the pressure had.
When I was in college, many of my friends were active in Wesley Foundation (United Methodist), Campus Crusade for Christ(mostly Evangelical Christians), Newman Center (Roman Catholic) and Hillel (a multi-denominational Jewish student organization). I became more interested in religion because all of these really good friends were so involved with and passionate about their faith. They really enjoyed the fellowship of having a religious community, and they were doing good work in the community. They invited me to come to their fellowship events and to do volunteer work with them, and I started to learn more about their belief systems. (I didn't know people who were not part of a Jewish or Christian tradition when I was in college; there aren't a lot of non-Christians in Iowa, frankly, Judaism seemed a little exotic in Eastern Iowa! If it hadn't been for an extremely popular professor I had my first yearRabbi Jay Holstein, I might not have known a lot of Jewish students at school. My circle of friends was not as diverse as it was after I moved to Virginia, and later New York City.)
I enjoyed being included in these different communities, but ultimately did not choose any of the above, which strained a lot of those relationships, because they felt personally rejected. For me, it was never a personal rejection of the person (although I did question the choices that some people made that were inconsistent with what they said they believed was right). To a larger extent, I think it was a product of being raised secularly and to use critical thinking, reasoning and my constructed beliefs about morality to guide me. My choices to not become a church member were not a judgment of individuals, but not accepting the religion's dogma/creed in its entirety and my belief that I did not need to choose one path over another.
Plus, I had too many questions that couldn't be satisfactorily answered:
Why would an all-powerful God be so limited in His/Her vision that there could only be one path to Her/Him? Why does there need to be an authoritarian interpretation of God? If God is everywhere all the time, then it must be in everything, and if it's in everything and we are all supposed to return to a Oneness/Paradise/Heaven, then shouldn't we be much more caring about each other and the world?
In my informal study of comparative religion via religious student organizations, I came to see that although there are many paths, they all are fundamentally the same when you strip away the names of the major religious figures, distill the stories to their roots, and focus on the main messages.
Seeking a community that could accommodate that worldview, I started to attend unprogrammed Quaker (Religious Society of Friends) meetings, and eventually joined the Charlottesville (Virginia) Friends Meeting after I graduated and moved away from Iowa.
If I were to describe what it means to be a Quaker in my own words, I would say: the central belief of Friends is that there is "that of God" in everyone, which allows us to have a direct experience of God. Quakers seek to tune into/magnify that of God in themselves and let that inner spirit (sometimes referred to as the Light within) guide your actions. Seeking that of God in others and letting it guide your actions in your relationship with them helps to ensure that your engage in positive relationships, because you are seeking the best in the other person (and actually finding out what connects you to them--your shared inner Light).
Some Quakers (and the original Quakers fall into this category), believe that Jesus Christ was the divine embodiment of the inner Light, and that we should follow Him and His teachings. My tendency is to view Jesus as one of the great spiritual leaders of his day, rather than the capital "S" Son of God, a holy being born into a human body to a Virgin Mother. I acknowledge that as a personal belief of mine and respect others enough to respect their point of view. I always hope that others can find it within themselves to respect mine. It is a contentious belief among Friends in certain circles.
Today, I still identify myself as a Friend (Quaker), and I am most aligned with a liberal, Universalist Friends interpretation of the tradition. I am mostly comfortable with that choice, although I am uncomfortable when some Friends who, having sampled some of the negative aspects of organized religion elsewhere, insist that the Universalist Friends version of spirituality is the best!
I don't see it as the best faith or spiritual practice, just the most accurate reflection of where I think I fit. I love it when my friends invite me to participate in their traditions, whether that is breaking the fast during Ramadan or Yom Kippur, having an Easter feast, chanting at a gathering of Buddhists or sharing yoga and meditations with Hindus. I love the beauty and variety of it all; it creates a wonderful counterpoint to the very simple, plain practice of a Quaker meeting for worship.
Sometimes, however, it is very difficult for me to be in this part of the world and to hold onto the belief of "that of God in everyone." The drama of religious war is played out literally here. When religious beliefs are used to promote a political agenda and or justify control of land and other resources, it is even more deadly.
It is easy to get caught up in the endless cycle of blame, violence and retribution.
It is easy to label someone an "other" and dehumanize them.
It is hard to be objective and also to be honest with people when you think that they are making wrong choices.
It is hard to say: "I see that of God in you AND your enemy."
It is hard when definitions of justice are not really about justice, but revenge based on who did what to whom and when. Can there ever really be justice for loss of life, livelihood, freedom or joy?
It is hard when everyone wants the same thing: self-determination for "their people" in a specific place, at the exclusion of the "other".
How do we break this cycle of violence and ensure the needs of all of the people of this region are met?
4 comments:
"We, the _____, are God's chosen people/righteous ones, our faith is the true faith, and if you do not believe as we do, and it is our responsibility to kill you/punish you/or at least banish you far away from us."
That's not the Jewish belief, and we ARE the chosen nation, as per the Bible itself.
"And Abraham gave ALL that he had to Isaac. But to the sons of the concubines that Abraham had, he gave gifts and sent them away from his son while he yet lived, eastward, to the east country." (Genesis 25:5-6)
Ishmael was the son of Hagar, a concubine.
"All" means "all". There's no room for error here. The birthright, the land, and everything else were given to Abraham's son, Isaac. ALL of it.
Now, just because Ishmael lived where he lived didn't make it his and his descendents'. It just meant that he lived there. I can live in Tokyo, but that doesn't mean that it belongs to me and my descendants as an everlasting inheritance.
In fact, the Bible is replete with verses that CLEARLY state that the land was given to the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob- NOT to Ishmael and his descendants. I would post them, but there are so many that I wouldn't want the server to crash here (lest someone accuse me of being intolerant of others with different beliefs from my own).
Look in the book of Joshua where the land was divided amongst the 12 tribes as per G-d's will. I don't recall Ishmael getting anything there. Perhaps you could find me a verse to show otherwise.
Yes, the seed of Ishmael was also to become a nation [Gen 21:13], a great nation [Gen 21:18], etc... however, that doesn't mean that it means here in the land of Israel, which CLEARLY and EXCLUSIVELY belongs to the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Now, the land of Israel (which, as I have shown CLEARLY and EXCLUSIVELY belongs to the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) is around 1/10th of 1% of the Middle East:
http://www.iris.org.il/sizemaps/arabwrld.htm
That leaves the other 99.9% for the great nation of Ishmael. I don't see how they can complain.
An afterthought: The Arabs here in Israel (you know- the ones that call themselves "Palestinians") maintain that they are descendants of the Canaanites, which would make them non-Semitic and not even descended from Ishmael(!). Canaan was a descendant of Ham- not Shem. I think they need to decide who they are already.
Wow Jessica, it seems you've attracted some strange characters to your blog. Anyway, I'll give a mini defense of atheism. To me, one reason it's "more convincing than the idea that there is some kind of Spiritual Truth" is the following: atheists are by definition not making any bold claims about why and how the world works the way it does. The onus is on people claiming that there is a "Spiritual Truth" to provide an adequate defense, and none is forthcoming. It's like if one person says that there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and one person doesn't say that. It's not like both people are making equally unlikely claims. Only one person is making a claim, and it's up to that person to prove it.
Anyway, nice post!
Hey Glen, yeah, I guess writing from Palestine will do that.
I understand the logical arguments for atheism, yet find it unsatisfying for basically the same reason you argue for it. I agree that theology rose from the need/desire of humans to make sense of the world and to create meaning (and to establish rules to maintain social order). That's why most spiritual traditions have the same set of stories (different characters, slight variations).
What makes it difficult for me to accept atheism is that it doesn't account for ineffable phenomena: true miracles like falling from a 10 story building and surviving, or whether it's that feeling that comes - at least for me - from hiking to the top of a mountain and taking in the natural view, and that such a place exists in the first place, or why meditation is calming. For some reason, luck and/or scientific evidence about endorphins and eathquakes just don't cut it for me.
I know that isn't a logical argument for religion, which is probably why I have chosen one of the vaguest spiritual paths! Maybe it's just a desire to make sense of human nature.
You're not writing from "Palestine" because "Palestine" doesn't exist.
It would have, but they chose war instead.
Oh well. That was their choice.
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