WHY I GO TO CHURCH - Part II

In my previous post, I discussed my sense of culpability and responsibility as a Christian as major reasons for attending church. This may need further explanation. As I mentioned in my post on the "Unaffiliated Nones," I could easily see myself becoming unaffiliated, and find myself, periodically, on the fringe of being one.  The simple fact is it would be easy to become unaffiliated, to go it alone.  At least theoretically, it would be easy.

LEAVING A CHURCH

I get why people leave their churches. Most leave because staying frequently feels like fighting a losing battle.  In some Christian denominations that is understandable, but Christianity is much larger than one's local church, one's denomination or brand of Christianity.

For instance, when I left the Lutheran Church, Missouri Synod, I did so from, amongst other things, a recognition that I wasn't the Lutheran I thought I was.  I recognized that I could not change what I saw as wrong in their practice of "closed" or "close" communion, for instance, which functionally prohibits other baptized Christians from taking communion in their congregations much the same way Roman Catholic churches do.  This pietistic practice offended my sensibility of what I believed was Jesus' intent and purpose during the Last Supper.

It was one of many things I could neither change nor accept within that denomination.  To stay any longer would have resulted in my feeling miserable and inwardly hypocritical.  Do not misunderstand me.  I do not hate or dislike Lutherans or the Missouri Synod brand of Lutheranism.  I have many friends in that church. In fact being raised and having attempted to enter into its ordained ministry taught me a great deal about myself and the church. I also began to understand that there are paths of understanding that are just as valid if not more so than being a Lutheran or even being a Christian.

While in the Missouri Synod, I studied eastern religions and read works by Thich Nhat Hanh.  To be honest when I did this I sometimes felt like a closet heretic.  It was rather exciting, in the sense one gets from enjoying forbidden fruit.  It was also liberating, but I had to keep it to myself.  Sharing what I learned from what I was reading would have been met with disdain from some in my church and risked being put on a prayer chain by others.  Nevertheless, I am grateful for what Lutheranism gave me.

In some way, I felt guided to leave. It would take their rejection of me as their lead organist and choir director to make me realize I needed to move on. I needed a shove to get me out of the door.  The reality was there wasn't room for me or my young family to grow there.  I couldn't change what happened and I couldn't change them.  I realized that I did not need to try, but could change what church my family attended, one that resonated with us, one that had room to grow in, and for a while we floated on the tranquil waters of a local United Methodist church where I served as their organist. We remained technically unaffiliated until we decided to become members of another denomination.  The truth is I could have become Methodist, but we missed a more liturgical worship setting, which we found in the Episcopal Church.

FINDING A CHURCH

Becoming an Episcopalian was like breathing fresh air. After awhile, being a Missouri Synod Lutheran seemed like nothing more then a preparatory course for becoming Episcopalian.  Without knowing it, I was raised on the liturgy found in the Episcopal Church's Book of Common Prayer, which was almost adopted verbatim by the Missouri Synod with regard to its Holy Communion liturgy, including most of its collects (prayers). It was an easy transition and an easy fit.  We didn't jump in right away.  It took some time. 

We had a Lutheran friend who had joined this church before us.  We started attending their Lenten Services, something we were use to in the Lutheran Church, but which wasn't being offered in the Methodist Church.  I was intrigued because the Lenten Services were said services.  During these services an English gentleman, who came to this part of the world to be a headmaster at  Native American school for girls, was giving the homily in which he talked about the Holy Land, Palestine he called it, as he was serving in the British Army at the time.  The simplicity and intentionality of those services appealed to me.  I was worshiping without having to do something.  I didn't realize how much I missed just sitting in a pew and taking things in. 

What ended getting us there were simple invitations.  People in the pew behind us, saying, "Think about joining us," and one dear lady who grabbed my arm on the way out of the church door whispering in my ear, "Come."  That's all, just come.  The simplicity and directness spoke to my heart and that is when we started going to this little Episcopal church.

Richard Hooker

The other attraction in becoming an Episcopalian, for me, was learning about Richard Hooker's paradigm for Anglicanism's theological structure: Scripture, Tradition, and Reason.

Although Hooker placed scripture above all else, he understood the need for correcting the inevitable wrongs that would occur in church polity through the guidance by the Holy Spirit and reason.   Reason was the air that stirred my spirit.  That we have a say in the religion we are a part of was church-shattering to say the least for me.  This concept gave me the freedom to think openly, and at the same time, it also made me feel responsible for my thoughts.

Blaming God for any stupid acts done by Christians was no longer an option.  Whether Hooker intended it or not, he made Christians responsible and culpable for what Christianity does and he carefully (a particular necessity in the 16th century) guides Christians to use reason to find solutions within the parameters of scripture and tradition.

Let me be very clear, I don't go to church to be a pew critic or to be its resident skeptic.  In addition, I don't go to church to earn myself a place in heaven, and I don't go to church to become more Bible-smart.

THE REASONS I GO

Rather I go to church because of a deep connection with the source of all being that I feel there, a connection which is beyond any belief or skepticism residing within me.  I recognize that source as the Self beyond self, God.

I go to church to be inspired in a number of ways: through prayer, through the liturgy, the readings, the homilies, and the sacraments.

I go to commune, along with my fellow human beings, in a "thin place" where we take a mere sliver of time to encounter a deeper sense of the Self we all are part of.

I go to Church to care, to join my heart, my spiritual center, with other hearts in communion with the heart of all that is.

I go to church to embrace and be embraced by a deep sense of being loved and to be loving.

I go to church to heal (through my music) and be healed by the beauty of worship.

I go to church to forgive a broken world and offer it absolution in the simple act of eating bread and drinking wine as the broken body and poured out blood of Christ; to be one with Christ who forgives all.

I go to church to let go: to accept what is and to strengthen my faith to meet what will be without the drama of insisting anything has to fit my scheme of things.

I go to church to remind myself of the inner peace that is available to all.

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To be honest, I don't always think of why I go to church every time I'm in church.  Rather I can say these things truthfully by stepping back and looking at what it is that motivates me to go to church at any given moment. Some reasons may be more prevalent at times than others.   I also realize what motivates me may not motivate others.  Others may well come up with different reasons that motivate them.

Like all major theistic religions, Christianity is vast in scope and has many different types of homes, places of worship, under its umbrella.

Churches should be there for everybody, but reality is that some aren't. I know the little church I attend is and most Episcopal churches are.  I also know there are other churches of various denominations that are open and welcoming to anyone who enters their doors regardless of who they are or where they're at in their life's journey; churches willing to share their most holy moments without reservation. That's the way it should be; that's the way of Christ, and that's why I go to church.

Until next time, stay faithful.

WHY I GO TO CHURCH - Part I

As any faithful reader of my posts know, I have written over forty posts on the topic of religion. In doing so, I have discussed my own theistic religion, Christianity.  I have relegated myself to the domain of being an agnostic Christian.  I have done so in order to take a critical look at my own affiliation with Christianity, to examine what I believe, to examine belief itself, and what it means to be faithful.  To some, an agnostic Christian may sound like a contradiction in terms, but I maintain that it is not and will attempt to explain my agnostic approach to Christianity as a route open to Christians in their life of faith.

So I'm going to turn a corner, so to speak, and talk about why I regularly attend two church services on Sundays.  As I mentioned in my last post, I'm an Episcopalian.  I was not always an Episcopalian. The Episcopal Church became my family's church of choice.

THE TALE OF A RELIGIOUS SLUT

I /we, my wife and I, started out as Lutherans and not just any old Lutheran, but members of the Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod - a rather conservative and somewhat evangelical minded type of Lutheran.  My wife and I were raised, baptized, confirmed, and married in the Lutheran Church, Missouri Synod. Our children were baptized in that church also.  Upon leaving the Lutheran Church, we spent a couple of years attending a United Methodist Church, but we never joined.  What led us out of the Lutheran Church and into the Methodist Church is the fact that I'm an organist.  In the end we decided to join the little Episcopal Church in our community where I wasn't an organist for almost four years.  I am now.

Let me just say that being a church musician has its challenges and is, in part, why I left churches and why I returned.  I should also say that I had intended in my younger days to enter into the Lutheran ministry, which was not a good fit.  I didn't admit to that until after I left the Missouri Synod.  Even then I continued to wonder if I had a calling  to ordained ministry.

When we joined the Episcopal Church I entertained the idea of entering into Holy Orders with the goal of eventually becoming an ordained priest.  To that end I finished my college education at a Roman Catholic Benedictine college with a degree in Religious Studies and Philosophy. In telling a friend of my religious journey, she looked at me and said, "Norm, you know you're nothing but a religious slut."  Well... I can't deny that.  I've been around the religious block, so to speak, and I have come to embrace the meaning of her colorful expression. 

UNORDAINABLE

Through the discernment process for entering holy orders in the Episcopal Church,  I figured out that ordination is not something I should pursue.  Interestingly, at the end of that process, a whole new field of work opened for me, being an advocate for the rights of the mentally ill which became my ministry and my passion until I retired last year. In many ways that experience deepened my perspective of what it means to be human and has demonstrated time and time again the effectiveness of listening closely to find the person residing in the identified patient or, to broaden that concept, to find the person identified as the problem; people frequently unheard because of a label given to them or because of a perception about them.

To be honest, I probably have more reasons for not attending a church than attending one. I could spend several posts getting into that, but I attend church because of deep sense within me that I am part of something or something is a part of me that is much larger than me, much larger than my beliefs, that I am part of something or something is part of me that I cannot perceive or conceive of, but that perceives and has conceived me and everything I know in the experience called my life. 

CULPABLY RESPONSIBLE

I attend church because I have a responsibility to the theistic religion that has given me my sense of being.  I have a responsibility as a human being to that sense of being-ness.  I also have a sense of culpability in what my religion gets wrong and a responsibility to help it get whatever is wrong with it right. I recognize the inescapable religious nature in being human; that religion is largely what we humans have made it to be, and trying to walk away from something that is innate in us is form of blindness and a willful attempt at being sophisticatedly ignorant.

To say that Christianity frustrates me from time to time, would be an understatement.  There are those claiming to be Christian who do not seem to have anything in common with what I feel and sense as a Christian to the extent that it has made me doubt whether I am a Christian.  It has made me wish, sometimes, that I never was, but I cannot deny the fact that I am.

 In what I thought would be my final exit from the church, from Christianity, and from theism, I wrote the following poem addressed to God, who I felt wasn't there:

* * * * *   

A PSALM

       

                                                     You've been my discomfort

                                                     And my distress;

                                                     Seemingly absent 

                                                     When I'm a mess.

                                                

                                                     Are You there?

                                                     Are You anywhere?

                                                     Are You a phenomenon,

                                                     Or were You created just for fun?

                                                     Why all the hoops?

                                                     Why all the loops?

                                                     Are You fair?

                                                     Do You care?

                                                     And what, exactly, does it do if I believe in You?

                                                     Will it give me a hereafter?  Is that all?

                                                     What about the here?  What about the now?

                                                     Doesn't it have value?  It should somehow.

                                                     What's wrong with this life that it can't be fixed?

                                                     Why suffering and pain?  Why war?

                                                     Do they make us love You more?

                                                     It's all so ineffective.  It just doesn't do the trick.

Norm Wright

September 5, 2011

* * * * *

I'm sharing this poem, a modern day psalm of complaint, because at the time I was really angry  To be blunt, I was royally pissed off at the church I attended, at Christianity as a whole, and at God.  I wrote it and then forgot that I wrote it only to discover it in the notebook I scribbled it in, last year and in reading it again, it brought back just how angry, upset, and feeling abandoned I was at the time.

CAUGHT RUNNING

But the truth is I wasn't abandoned at all.  The truth is I was trying to run away only to be caught.  I was angry because I thought history was repeating itself and I felt foolish that I hadn't learned my lesson from the first time I left a church, the Lutheran Church I had spent my whole life in.  I was upset because I let people get under my skin again and irritate the heck out of me.  I was hurt by what people said and I said some hurtful, but honest things back in letter meant only for my church's vestry, but was published in less then 8 hours after hitting the send button.


"E-mail, thou art a heartless bitch." to paraphrase the character, Sheldon Cooper, on "The Big Bang Theory."

The truth was while angry with some people, who I wasn't all that concerned about upsetting, I hurt people I didn't intend to hurt. The reality was the particular incident that sent me out the door of a church wasn't like the first time I left a church, where people, even my closest friends, didn't bother to say anything to me or try to convince me to stay.  Unlike that experience, this experience was different. The people I probably hurt the most were those who cared most and who wrote me almost instantly upon hearing of my departure.  They didn't plead for me to come back, but they expressed their care and, at a deeper, unspoken level, their faith that things would be okay for them and for me and my family.  They spoke without judgment or judging anyone.  It was vastly different from the previous time we left the church that had been part of our entire lives. 

GRACE IS A LADY

Then one day a gracious lady from the church came to our door.  She had been drafted to be a replacement for me as an organist one Sunday.  She hadn't played organ for some time and didn't want to play, but she didn't speak just for herself, she spoke for others in the congregation. Her gracious words and the fact that she took the time to talk to me and my wife personally touched my heart, and I realized that I was being selfish and ungrateful for what I had to offer in the light of what was being offered me in all the concern and the well wishes of those who called, wrote to me, and undoubtedly prayed for me and my family. 

The reason I returned was mostly because I had a responsibility to use what was given to me, music.  I'm not all that trained as an organist or a musician.  One could say it came naturally, but I wouldn't say that.   It came out of love for the music of the church which spoke to me as a small child, a language I acquired and that I speak fluently and fluidly. The music of the church pours out of me when I sit at the organ console or a piano in on-the-spot improvisations. That's not bragging.  It's just what happens and is why I play.  I don't have to think about it. It's like speaking English. In fact, I guess I could say music is my second language.

I'm not particular fond of the word "gift," as if I'm special in any regard.  I think of gift as actually more akin to what motivates me in the service of others.  It is in that sense that I feel responsible to be in church to give voice to what motivates me to serve others.  In that sense, everyone is gifted; everyone has something that motivates them or ought to motivate them in the service of others as a response to the life they have.

A DEEP RIVER

The poem I wrote also belies the depth of the faith that courses through my being.  One can't say the things that I said in that poem without recognizing that it was addressing something, even if I was in denial of or trying to deny what or who I was addressing.  In retrospect, I can see where I was trying to push a part of me away.


That I titled it "Psalm" also belies an affinity with the Holy Bible even if one could describe it as a troubled relationship. I recognize in the poem the perennial frustration that is present in being religiously aware, the weariness that comes with caring about something at a deep, personal level.


MEA CULPA?

I can hear the minds of some saying, "So you attend church because you feel guilty.  Right?" 


No. 


I don't feel guilty about what I did or necessarily what I do, unless it involves something I willfully did to hurt someone.  My sense of culpability and responsibility in being a Christian does not proceed from guilt.  Most of what people feel guilty about is waste of time if they don't do something about it.  I don't deny that guilt is a motivator for doing some things, but its is a very poor reason for going to church - and I know some will argue that; as in, "Isn't church about recognizing our sinful nature and need for repentance?"  There is that aspect of going to church for some, but it's not the reason I feel responsible to attend.  It is not associated with my feeling of culpability in being a Christian.

My sense of culpability in being a Christian is related to my sense of responsibility that comes with being one; in that, if wrongs are done in God and Jesus' name, I have a responsibility to help correct them.  Christianity does not have a very good track record, in my opinion, and it seems it's becoming increasingly tarnished by radical Christian-ism (otherwise known as Bible-thumping fundamentalism) which is fomenting hate in the name of God and in Jesus' name.  

Most religions don't have good track records because the history of humanity does not have a good track record, but I'm limited in what I can speak to.  I'm not a Muslim.  I'm not a Hindu.  I'm not an Atheist.  I'm not a Buddhist.  I'm not Jewish.  Each and every other religion has their own track records that their followers ought to address.  I'm a Christian, even though some could and would argue that I am not, and some have said I'm not. I do not view Christianity as a gift from God.  Rather I see the mess that's been made of it over the centuries as a responsibility I and the whole of Christianity has to put right, as best we can; guided by the sense of God we possess and the teachings of Jesus we proclaim.


WHAT DO I GET OUT OF THIS?


I can also sense some thinking, "What about God? What about Jesus?  Do you get anything out of going to church?"


The simple answer to the last question is yes, but the reality is that for me to talk about what is in it for me personally is complicated and nothing about this blog is about simple answers. I believe religion to be as complex as anything we humans do.  That it gets written off by some as fantasy or by others as God's saving grace to humanity is, in both cases, a form of denial of the collective culpability and responsibility for the religions that we humans shaped and have been shaped by over the centuries; the former as a display of sophisticated ignorance and the latter as a display of God-blinded-ness.


As far as God and Jesus go, I have already written extensively on these topics.  Since this post is the turning of a page, so to speak, I will be talking about God and Jesus in a different light than I have in the past.  I will be using the term God, but advise any reader to review what I've said about God, Jesus, and the Bible in my past posts.  I'm not having a change of mind, but rather taking a new approach to what I've said in explaining why I feel religion, as a whole, is important to human existence and the role I feel my religion, Christianity, has in facilitating religious singularity.


Until next time, HAPPY THANKSGIVING and stay faithful.

   

    











THE UNAFFILIATED "NONES"

As I have mentioned in past posts and what is vastly being reported by religious polls of various kinds is that the number of those who describe themselves as unaffiliated is growing.  The estimate is that there are 1.1 billion people who have either left or who say they are not members of any theistic religious organization.  I constantly find articles written by those who have left their churches and mosques because they have become disenchanted with organized theism, particularly what they describe as the hypocrisy and hate-mongering that has emerged from these supposedly peace-teaching theistic religions.

This switch from being affiliated to unaffiliated is particularly noted amongst Christian evangelicals of  a more ardent fundamentalist brand.  The unaffiliated have become known as the "nones," a group largely composed of millennials ranging in age from 18 to 35 years.

Included in the nones are those claiming to be agnostics, atheists, those who believe in a deity but not associated with an organized religion,  humanists of a non-affiliated type, those who practice or believe in some form of spiritualism.  In other words, it is rather difficult to put your finger on exactly what it is the nones believe or what they are looking for.

This opens the door to speculation, a regular human pastime of mine. So allow me to engage in some speculation.  First let me say that at I have found myself, at times, on the verge of becoming a none and may well be on the fringe of being one.  I've literally walked out of churches with the momentary intent of never returning only to find myself doing so, but that is a topic for another post.  So why are people leaving organized religion?

THE EVANGELICAL EXODUS

One of the easiest aspects of this exodus too track is those leaving evangelical churches and those currently leaving or threatening to leave The Church of the Latter Day Saints, the Mormons (LDS).

Starting  with the exodus of  millennial evangelicals of a more fundamentalist type, I've read that many leaving their churches say they loved at one time is that they possessed or were possessed by an intense ideological belief system that proved itself to be hypocritical.  One of those beliefs that shaped their worldview was something they probably learned during their Sunday School experience, that God loves everyone and that one should always be good to others.

Evangelical Sunday Schools, as I am sure is true with Mormon Sunday Schools, is that they are really good at getting that point across and millennials saw and felt that love as very young children. Things, however, start changing once they started going through adolescence and entering into adulthood.  The God they fell in love with as a child starts to have a different personality once they start reaching the age where their church feels its time to curb the growing tendency to sin, otherwise known as sex.  Hell rather than heaven becomes increasingly unavoidable.

There seems to be a moral tax to pay to get the love that was so freely given to them as a small child, when forgiveness was readily available because one didn't know better and was just learning.  Being loved increasingly became conditioned on being right with God.  Becoming more aware, more intelligent became increasingly viewed as a challenge to faith as these church's ideologies increasingly became more restrictive as to give the "narrow path" to salvation a road map.

Then there is the ultimate encounter with life in the "real world." And by "real world" I mean the world that is not so black and white, where things are more of a gray mixture of not perfect and not intolerably imperfect human beings.  Millennials, if anything, impress me as trying to be more truthful about themselves as they search for what that means.  They are less attracted to pretense and have a more open attitude towards others, especially the people they get to know.

Evangelical and Mormon millennials are no different in this regard.  As they mature, they find that they are not "perfect" but that their imperfections, which are considered intolerable to the God preached about in their churches are not all that intolerable in their own lives.  It is no wonder then that the straw that is threatening to break the camel's back in fundamental evangelicalism and in the LDS is their stance against LBGTQ individuals.

While the older members of fundamentalist evangelicals are probably entrenched in their long-held beliefs, many millennials in their groups have come to personally know LBGTQ individuals who are open about their sexuality.  They have friends or family members who identify as such. They know that being LBGTQ does not make a person bad or good, but is part of what makes that person who that person is, and they are torn between a God who loved everyone because everyone is God's child and that same God who can hate a once loved child simply because he or she is admittedly gay;  a God who is presented as requiring those who love Him to hate those who he hates, those they have come to know and care about.

It is ironic that this issue, more than any other, is what seems to be driving millennial evangelicals and Mormons from the pews of their churches.  The rhetoric of hate leveled against people they know and love exposes what many see as a deep deception about God that they end up throwing God out as the metaphorical hypocrite representing those believers who are willing to destroy their own families and neighbors because they're more worried about having a fantasy afterlife than living this life more fully by being less judgmental and more compassionate and loving.

I sense a similar exodus amongst Muslims, but I feel this is not getting the attention that the Christian evangelical exodus is receiving.  What is driving younger Muslims from their mosques is the rhetoric of hate also.  Muslim intellectuals are also struggling with what they see as deep deceptions regarding Allah and the teachings of the Prophet and their personal experiences with the "real world" that they see being torn apart not only by geopolitical warfare, but also theopolitical warfare.

As a whole, I see this meltdown of monotheism happening worldwide, and it is largely the result of ancient ideologies that addressed little understood issues of an ancient era to foster hate and violence today for no other reason than the Bible said so.  This lack of intelligence and unreasonableness is, in my opinion, the greatest detriment to the God-concept and organized theistic religion.

AGNOSTICS

I have identified myself as an agnostic, but one who remains affiliated with a mainline church, The Episcopal Church of the United States.  Up to this point I have avoided naming the denomination to which I and my family joined some twenty years ago, simply because I don't want people to think that whatever heresy one might hear splashed across my posts as being taught in the Episcopal Church. Why I love the Episcopal Church is that there is a lot room in that church to exercise an open, questioning mind.

I am a self-professed agnostic not because I have no beliefs, but rather that I admit to not knowing whether what I believe is at all certain and I try to keep an open mind, a discerning mind, and a somewhat skeptical mind in order to distill and examine that elusive topic, truth.

The reality is there are probably a good number of agnostics sitting in church pews and attending synagogues and mosques.  I have no doubt that there are a smattering of atheists as well amongst the affiliated. That fact doesn't make us hypocrites, rather it is an attestation that there is more to corporate worship than having to check your mind at the door in order to give credence to the ideologies found there.

A number of the nones have identified themselves as agnostic presumably meaning one of several options:  they don't know if there is a God; they believe in the possibility of a God but don't think God is all that involved in what we humans do, the issue of God and religion is not something that interests them, or they have embrace a skepticism about all things religious.

I read somewhere that some Christian clergymen said  they'd rather deal with an atheist than an agnostic.  Presumably this is because they can argue the certainty of their opposing beliefs better with an entrenched atheist than they can with an agnostic.  The reason is obvious.. It is hard to argue with an open mind, one that can accept the other's belief as valid, but open to debate and questioning.

Overall, I see agnosticism on the rise, in part, as a response or stance against the certitude expressed by institutions and individuals who espouse strong ideological, moral beliefs that are based on nothing more than writings over a thousand years old, some of  which are considered irrelevant, if not an affront to the life experiences of  people today.

ATHEISTS

A number of atheists are, in fact, forming groups.  As I have noted in other posts, I consider atheism a form of theism. Although I believe a number of unaffiliated are atheist, I also think that number, if known, would likely include individuals affiliated with atheist groups, comparable in nature, to any organised theistic religion.  As such, I do not consider atheists to be anti-religion as they are anti-conceptualists who deny the existence of out-there-other commonly known as God.  The fact is some atheists are organizing and forming what I and some of them consider a religious community or religion similar to conceptually God-based theistic religions in form but not in substance.

I consider atheism a valid religion.  I find myself agreeing with many of their observations about the wrongful influence some fundamentalist, God-based theists have in their overt zeal to define the world strictly from their ideological perspectives.  While I too don't believe in the God most atheists don't believe in, I find the God-concept also valid and reserve space for an out-there-other that, paradoxically, is felt as an inside, intraconnected Self-observing-self or the sense of Being in which we live and move and have our being (Paul, the apostle).

If I were to offer a criticism of atheism it would be that some atheists are selling many God-based religions short; that there is a human richness that is residing in the God-based concepts of theism which are important to the human understanding of who we are, why we are, and what to do next in order to help the world.  I feel this this is an area where atheists and God based theists can find some common ground and can help each other in providing for a more humane world.

SPIRITUALITY

Spirituality is difficult to define. A number of "nones" identify themselves as spiritual but not religious.  Of course my definition of religion includes every form of spirituality.   Spirituality is frequently presented as a type of pantheism or panentheism that sees nature or the cosmos as having a spiritual connection to all living things or that all that exists has a spiritually interconnection with each other.

Spirituality is linked to the human spirit as the perceiving, creative property of being human, a property that permits us to change our world  or one's personal situation by appealing to the forces driving nature, the power inherent in being.

Spirituality is capable of embracing an inclusivity that understands the community of being   Those claiming to be spiritual often see no need to "belong" to a spiritual group (although such groups exist) or have membership in an identified religious denomination.  God is defined or better understood as being undefined in whatever the spiritually oriented person feels God to be. The unaffiliated person claiming to be spiritual may identify culturally as being influenced by Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism,  Native American religion, Wicca, or any number of theistic identities, but not belonging to any. Many see their spirituality expressed in being themselves a free spirit.

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At the beginning of this post, I asked what the "nones" are looking for?  The answer to that question is not so much what they are looking for as much as it is what are they trying to avoid or get away from.  I think those who are leaving monotheistic religions are doing so because the God-concept of these ancient religions is twisted in an endeavor to keep current the idea of unchangeable God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the Holy Bible and the Koran, who is both a God of love and peace and a God of hatred and vengeance.   A God-concept that holds even a smidgen of these contrasting views appears  nonsensical.  This is a God who cannot be trusted, much less believable when it comes to saving the world   I also know that monotheists of various kinds have answers to this apparent incongruity.

Religions of the Book are hard-pressed to find a universal expression of the compassion, love, and peace that is often contradicted by passages found in the very books they hold sacred. It's too easy to come up with a list of  "ifs," "ands," or "buts" that argues against being open-minded, open-hearted, and inclusive.  We have all sorts of demonstrations on just how difficult this is.

I recently listened to sermon by Dr.  William Lupfer, rector of Trinity Wall Street in New York, explain not only the difficulty churches and society as a whole have with being inclusive, but also how dangerous it is, how risky it can become and yet how committed he and Trinity is to being just that, inclusive, with its inherent dangers and risks.  Trinity is a rare, beautiful place that sits in the physical center of secular religion, Wall Street.  It knows whereof it speaks, and it is engaged in the struggle to be that haven of peace and inclusiveness that is desperately needed everywhere.
 

I feel that those who are leaving their places of worship and embracing atheism or agnosticism do so because holding to ideological beliefs that are conflicting and trying to reconcile and make them work isn't working for them. Progressive, open-hearted, and open-minded churches, synagogues, and mosques like Trinity Wall Street are few and hard to find, and those that are struggle with having to redefine the scriptures they use as the base of their theistic ideologies.

I cannot judge or criticise those identified as "nones."  Some nones were born into loving homes where such ideological beliefs found in organized theistic religions were not important.  Others left organized religion for any number of reasons.  Whatever the reason or the background for being a "none,"  being true to oneself and respectful of where others are in their lives at any given moment is what ultimately counts in making our world a better place to live.

In my next post, I will talk about why I'm still affiliated.

Until then, stay faithful.

 


 

THEISTIC RELIGION

Is there any relevance to theistic religion?

If one were strictly listen to a number of renowned intellectuals who decry the ignorance of those who claim to be theists, one might feel ashamed for having any beliefs that include the existence of an unknown, out-there-other that got everything we know as the universe going, including ourselves and that actually gives a damn about what's going on, including one's own small and, relatively speaking, insignificant life.

It's a stretch, isn't it?

But it's a stretch we humans have been doing since the dawn of our species.  I have talked about the emergence of theism in  past posts (See Religion and Religious Intuition) so I won't bother with that here.

If my definition of religion is broad, so too is my definition of theism.  Any ideological belief that addresses the issue of an out-there-other is included in my definition of theistic religion.  As such, the term, "God" would only be considered an indicator of theism, not it's full definition. Atheists, in their belief that there is no God, are, by their ideological denial of a out-there-other, theists.

Those who believe in spiritualism, a higher power, or who have their doubts about such things are theists because they have an interest in that field.  In other words, there are relatively few, within the parameter of this definition, who would not be considered theists of some sort.  This is not said to offend those who deny a belief in a god or a higher power, but rather to emphasize the fact that denial of a belief is necessarily premised on the belief being denied.  In fact, it would appear that believing something is much easier than not believing something, since to deny a premise requires its acknowledgement, it's existence, and then, through a rational process, work out why such a premise is false.  It's a matter of math.  It's far easier to add than to take away.

Theism appears engrained in us at some level. I recently heard Richard Dawkins admit on a TV program to singing Christmas carols during the Christmas season even though he is an ardent atheist. I believe he admitted to being a cultural Christian, which I was glad to hear him say because it was honest and took nothing away from his being an atheist.

OMNIPRESENCE

The point being is that theism is everywhere.  It is engrained in us culturally and socially, if not genetically.  To not believe something others believe in requires an exercised reason.  It seems to me that people are, for the most part, ready to believe something or believe in something without much reasoning. Sincere skepticism requires far more thought than a ready credibility.

 Beliefs can be altered over time.  They can evolve into near fact or they become memetic, almost genetic.   As I have alluded to in a past post, theistic religion is culturally engrained into every society that even where ardent secular governments actively attempt to systemically eradicate its presence through harassment or persecution they ultimately fail in such endeavors.  Historically speaking, persecutions of a theistc religion have resulted in strengthening that religion. 

ENDURANCE

With the emergence of secular religion during the Enlightenment, reason was presented as an antidote to faith.  Ironically, both secularists and most theists have wrongfully equated faith with belief.  An easy mistake to make since our understanding of faith and belief, both in secular and theistic religion, is based on its association with the Greek word pistis, which is used to connote both, depending on contextual usage.

During the enlightenment  brilliant men saw theism as a block to the light of pure reason.  As such, there were those who actively sought to end the out-there-other concept of God and replace it by epitomizing human reasons which was sometimes depicted as a metaphorical goddess representing wisdom or reason.

Ironically, the Enlightenment sparked a theistic revival in western Europe and the newly formed United States.  Yet the notion that theistic religion was an opiate used by powerful churches and the royalty to garner power and hold the vast majority of people enthralled, would reach its height during and after the First World war, when communism and other national socialisms actively took control of everything. In Russia, churches were simply closed and religious practices stopped. Theists were actively persecuted.

After more than  seventy years of suppression, Russian Orthodoxy sprung to life with the abolition of the Soviet Union.  Systemic persecution of a belief system, no matter how far fetched it may be, that poses no direct threat to others will attract adherents. Something that requires suppression reveals the power of whatever is being suppressed.  Someone killed for being faithful to their beliefs makes those beliefs very powerful.

A TWIST OF TERMS

This understanding has gained some relevance today. Terms like martyrdom and persecution have become catch phrases by those who feel that their theologies are being encroached upon by godless secularism.  The appeal to the notion of martyrdom has enjoyed a comeback by Islamic terrorists who have given its meaning a new twist, someone who is willing to blow themselves up to kill and create havoc on others.

In the United States the recent Supreme Court's decision to permit same-sex marriage has led some fundamentalists Christians to declare that they feel Christians are being persecuted. The response of some of them is to advocate the execution of all homosexuals.   There is no small amount of irony in in martyrs who martyr others or in the persecuted who advocate the martyrdom and persecution of others.

POWER

As mentioned in my last post, religion is about power:  the appeal to power, the generation of power, and use of power.   In theism the generation of power is not derived from people, per se, but is or was understood as bestowed by an out-there-other, derived from spiritual discipline, or derived from acts of kindness.  Power in theism in more about the force of influence than the force of aggression, but that wasn't always the case.

There has been a slow transition, in my opinion, from power bestowed for aggressive purposes in ages before the Axial period to understanding the power of shaping ideas since that time. To be truthful this has not be a smooth transition.  Power as control is still alive in theism, but as there is an increasing divide between secular and theistic religion, the use of power for aggressive purposes is diminishing as power exercised for aggressive purposes is mostly a matter of secular religion.

DIFFERNTIATING PARADIM

That organized theism of churches, mosques, and temples exercise power in the sense that power is appealed to, generated, and used in the same manner as in the secular religious world is simply the fact that theistic institutions that do so are functioning as secularists rather than theists.  There has always been a struggle between these two religious views regarding the right appeal, generation and use of power.   To borrow from Christian theology some two thousand years ago, there is the concept of being in the world but not of the world.  This is largely in reference to use of power or how to see power.  The notion of being in the world, but not of the world is to see power differently.  Christianity, for the most part, has never been able to fully put into practice this central tenant, but its existence demonstrates the differentiating paradigm of religion at work which helped create the idea of secular and theistic world view. 

Theocracies

Theocracies have nothing to do with theism.  Their appeal to power is based on a time when the differentiation between what is secular and theistic did not exist.  The Holy Bible is a good example of this.  While Christian churches, for example, are quick to say after any reading of scripture in a liturgically orientated worship service, "The word of the Lord," quite often what they read is more a historical account of the secular practices or mindset of a bygone era in which the secularism clearly exhibited (the reasoned and rational approach to some problem that required a strategy of some kind) is attributed to a miraculous intervention by God.  If you read these accounts closely, there are other explanations for the so-called miraculous, especially when it comes to military conquests or  some type of strategic engagement. 

Theocracies are largely anachronistic.  Their appeal to some religious fundamentalists and zealots is a cover for what is truly being sought, secular power, the power over others that is not derived from the other, but rather usurped as being bestowed by God.  This is no longer a tenable position for a theist to take. 

GETTING BACK TO BASICS

I find it interesting that Pope Francis, the head of what is both a secular and theistic religious institution, at a recent meeting with Italian bishops condemned the secular use of power rampant in the Italian church.  His appeal to a power that is not fearful of poverty or dealing with the oppressed and the suppressed, at getting down and dirty in the work of changing the hearts and minds of the faithful in his own church is attempt to restore a theistic understanding of the role of power which is in keeping with the central teachings of Christianity; a power that is meant to influence and change the hearts of people, to be more compassionate, more caring, to see oneself in the other.

The ultimate use of power in theism, of any kind or type of theism, is to not only treat the other as one's self but to see the other as one's self. 


THE PROPHETIC VOICE

Theistic religion maintains the prophetic voice - the Self that observes the self.  Whether one believes in the out-there-other, or who believes in the interconnectedness of all living things, or sees one's self and the world being part of something greater than the sum of all things past, present, and yet to come, there is a sense of belonging that transcends mere belief and ideology.  Theism addresses the personal questions of who am I and why am I on a personal and universal level.  This is largely an intuition - a sensed feeling that almost every person has at some level or another.  That it may have a scientific explanation or a philosophical one does not minimize its importance.  It makes us the caring and compassionate beings we can be or become.  It drives us to vigilance in what we do and how behave.  It points out to us the ignored obvious that is so often the hallmark of secular religion in its frequent overt reasoning and rationalizing way.

THE ART OF LIVING

Most importantly, theism opens us to the art of living, to the visual arts, to the literary arts, to music, dance, to culinary arts, to the creative activities that deepen meaning and give us joy and moments to ponder our own humanity.

Worship should always be an artful event and art is always an act of worship. 

When I enter an art museum, I enter into a temple.  On a recent visit to Modern Museum of Art in New York City, I could not help but observe the people standing in awed silence before Van Gogh's Starry Night.  It was if there was incense and candles light burning somewhere, so heavy was the sense and scent of awe being exhibited by those and myself standing in front of this inspiring work of art.   

Both secularism and theism is needed in our world.  I do not see them as being diametrically opposed, but that each needs the other to form the grist of progress on a personal and social level.  Each informs the other in necessary ways. 

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In my next post, I will provide some thoughts on the topic of the "nones" - that group of unaffiliated theists whose numbers are growing and what this movement away from traditional theism possibly means.

Until then, stay faithful.

    

SECULAR RELIGION

As I mentioned in my previous post, the term religion, for me, is a very broad term indeed.  I realize that to many I am stretching its meaning beyond what most think of as religion.  As Karen Armstrong points out in her book, "Fields of Blood," the term religion was coined somewhere around the first century BCE and attributed by some to Cicero.  Since that time, it has been largely used to mean theistic religions.  I deliberately want to broaden it to include what I see as the religious attributes rampant in secularism so as not to turn a blind eye to its ramifications in the functions of our current world. 

Before the word religion was coined there was no differentiation between what we have come to understand as religious and secular or "church and state" as used in the West.  They were one in the same.  We have somehow deluded ourselves to think that secularism is devoid of anything religious, that it is the opposite of religion.  I'm here to say that it isn't.  Secularism, in my opinion, is just another broad religious perspective that differentiates itself from theism, but I would maintain is, in itself, a religious construct.

RELIGION

In the broadest terms, religion is about power:  the appeal to power, the generation of power, and the use of power.  This may seem a little counter-intuitive, especially to those who largely see religion in theistic terms.  Look at the rituals and rites of any theistic religion and what you will hear is a great deal of talk about power, the power of God or the gods.  Gods are almighty, omniscient, omnipresent, a force to contend with, or a force to call upon when in need.

In secular religion, the pursuit of power is more prevalent than in theism, where divinity does not need to pursue power since power resides in the divine and we mere mortals are consigned, in theism, to appeal to it and to utilize it when bestowed.  In secular religion, power is something that is acquired.  In secular religion, power is derived from or bestowed by people.  In all religion, power is exercised through the ritual.  Ritual provides structure to the ideological beliefs held by both secular and theistic religions as a means of shaping human behavior.  This may seem like quite a stretch in the definition of religion, so let me explain:

RITUAL

In secular life, we tend not to think in terms of ritual as we do routine or process, but there is an intuition found in the off-hand observations by some individuals about their daily routines.  It might be considered rather glib to say, "I'm religious about exercise" or "He/She is religious with her/his diet," or in U.S. politics, Democrats are religious in their pursuit of income equality and republicans are religious in their pursuit of limiting the federal government.  I would contend that this is actually an accurate understanding of process and routine; in that, functions which shape human behavior can be understood as rituals and ritual is the hallmark of any religion. 

We can divide ritual into various broad categories. For the purpose of this post, I will talk about the two broad categories; low level rituals and high level rituals.  All religions have some sense of this; to prescribe certain activities with a reason why we do them.  Businesses and theistic institutions run in similar fashions - when to be at work, when to be at prayer, etc.  On a personal level, people have times when they wake up, go to bed, when they say their morning prayers, when they say their evening prayers, when they read their newspapers, when they read their holy scriptures.  When to diet for physical health, when to fast for spiritual health.  I could go on and on.  You can easily catch my drift. 

At more organizational levels, such as  business, corporations, and larger theistic institutions we can talk about mission and creedal statement that identify what ideological beliefs are supposedly guiding and fostering behavior in the workplace or the place of worship.  Go to a health club, a country club, any fraternal organization and ritual becomes increasingly apparent.  Membership in such organizations requires a subscription not only to certain beliefs but to certain practices, certain expectations that the membership is required to perform in order to be identified as a member. 

Perhaps the highest level of secular religious ritual is found in the military systems of any nation.  The military, as is true in monasticism or any environment that enforces a rigid system of behavior control to shape or reshape the identity of its participants, is at the highest level of ritual.

THE MILITARY

I have never been in military service, so my observations are based on what I have heard or read, but the military of any nation seems to have always had a religious effect on its people.  It is highly ritualistic, ordered, hierarchal, and aimed at shaping the behavior of its soldiers.  It is so successful at this, that there are those soldiers who, after leaving the military, have a difficult time adjusting to a civilian life that is less ritualistic, ordered, and hierarchal.

Militarism also has an impact on secular civilian life, as well.  Patriotism, as a whole, stems from belief systems that are highly ideological. There is reverence when it comes a nation's military that proceeds from deep seated ideologies that have shaped a nation's identity.  Symbols, flags, and emblems offer a sense of transcendence, of sacrifice to a higher cause that, in the case of secularism, is not directed to a deity but rather to the state the military serves. 

THE STATE

On the highest rung of religious secularism is the state.  Government is the  locus of power, the temple of secular religion. It is not without reason, the government buildings worldwide take on the look or feel of temple, cathedral, or a basilica. Washington D.C. is a prime example of secular religious architecture.  It's mall is a populated with temples dedicated to secular ideologies and the people who promoted them.  Politics is the priestcraft of secularism.  Whether political process is defined as monarchy, a democracy, an oligarchy, a theocracy, or as a dictatorship, every state has a political process of some form.  Politics mirrors the purpose of religion in its an appeal to power, the generation of power, and the use of power.

Some may question that I included theocracy in my list of secular governmental types.  Let me explain that theocracies are by their functions as secular as any other form of government.  They may rightfully claim to base their laws and other ideologies on a specific theistic religion but, for the most part, they function in a very secular fashion, and in doing so they, perhaps unwittingly, diminish the theistic religion they claim to be based on by attempting to utilize concepts derived to address issues of another time in human history and erroneously apply them in world were such perspectives and situations have no bearing.

Theocracies will become increasingly difficult to maintain, even though there seems to be an current surge of theocratic thought in the Muslim world.  A similar surge in theocratic thought is also evident in the United States during this election season in an odd but not unfamiliar mixture of priest and statecraft. Theocracies are faced with difficult choice of being true to their theistic roots which are frequently seen as unchangeable and having ,out of necessity, to function in a flexible way that meets the needs of the nation in a much more diverse world.  

ECONOMY

In conjunction with political processes are economic processes.  Economy is the second rung of religious secularism's ladder.  Secular economy has no equivalent structure in theism and this is an important understanding that often pits secularism and theism against each other.  This is not to say that theism does not address economy.  It does, but rather that theism is largely devoid of defining economic systems or developing an economy of its own.

Theistic religions largely utilize the economic systems that are available to them in the secular world.  The role of economy in secular religion is interesting.  Economy is how secular religion generates most of its power; not that wealth, in and of itself, is power but that wealth is used to influence the utilization of power. Those who do not possess wealth either as individuals or as a community have little influence over those who have power.  Power and wealth go hand in hand in secular religion.

Capitalism, communism, fascism, and socialism are all  methods intended to define the purpose of wealth and control its use.  All of these economic principles were designed to permit the distribution of wealth in a manner intended to level the playing field either by natural consequence, in the the case of capitalism, or by governmental mandate in the others, so that any individual can either in a personal way or in a collective way can garner enough wealth to influence the use of power.

All economic ideologies have demonstrated both strengths and weaknesses.  As such, the force of economy has a transcendent quality about it.  Adam Smith, for instance, referred to the unseen hand that guides economic trends in capitalism.  All economic systems are obsessed with prophecy that is based on various assessments of trends and performances.  In spite of all the scrutiny and research, there is very little that is certain in the realm of economics.

As such, economies largely run on faith.  Where there is weak faith in the economy, the economic picture is bleak.  Where faith is strong in the economy, the economic outlook is bright.

SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY

One might not think of science and technology as having anything to do with religion or that there is a religious aspect to them.  If religion is about power and knowledge is power, then science and technology can be considered religious activities.  Secular religion is less concerned with the ambiguity that surrounds "why" questions and more concerned about "what," "how," and "who" questions.

Secular religion is on the surface very pragmatic and rational.  In and of themselves, science and technology are morally neutral.  This is not to say that they are amoral, but rather that the moral implications of what they are doing is not in the forefront of thinking by those doing it. The most important example of this was the development of the atomic bomb. While there were those who, like Oppenheimer, expressed concern and regret at its development, it did not prevent the pursuit of its development.

The development of this technology also provides an example of science and technology's connection to power.  In other words, it was not a question of whether to develop it as it was who would develop it and utilize it first. The rationale that prompted its development from the very beginning was, more than any other the enticement, the probability that it could be done.  This is the simple credo of all scientific and technological advances, "Do it because, you can. Don't and someone else will."

There appears to be a passion about being dispassionate in these fields regarding what is wrought.  In other words, the devotion to being creative in discovering or developing something ultimately sheds light on our abilities and gives definition to who we are, even if those discoveries and developments exposes our limitations or can place our existence at risk.

JUSTICE

All religions are involved with justice.  In secular religion, justice is matter of reason and rationality. Laws are promulgated for the purpose of keeping order by ensuring that the exercise of power is defined and controlled; that the common good is preserved so that exercise of power is not disrupted.

As such, justice, in secular religion, is symbolized as a blindfolded lady holding the scales of justice. This image serves two purposes.  The first is to say that no one is above or beyond the law.  The second is that justice is an exercise of reason. The evidence weighed is not a matter of sight, but rather of reason.  As such, in secular religion, ignorance is not an excuse for breaking the law.

In secular religion, only reason and rationality are seen as safeguarding the common good. Consequently, punishment is based on what is understood as serving the common good and the state, or, in more autocratic settings, punishment is meted out in the understanding that what protects the state is considered as what's best for the common good.

A prime example of the exercise of secular justice is, ironically,  found in the story of Jesus's trial by Caiaphas in New Testament.  When faced with a possible if not probable riot, Caiaphas reasons that it would be better for one man to die rather than risk a massacre in the temple precinct.  Caiaphas had reason to think this way.  It had happened before and he knew that the powers that be, the Romans, wouldn't think twice about doing it again.

No matter what Christianity has made of that event, Caiaphas was acting in the best interest of what he considered the common good and in the best interest of what he saw the tenuous grip he or any other Jewish leader had on what little autonomous power bestowed upon him and the Sanhedrin by Rome.  A similar rationale was employed when dropping an atomic bomb on Nagasaki and Hiroshima to hasten the end of World War II.

I think it is important, however, not to equate secular justice as being a matter of cold calculation.  It can be, but where the common good is truly the consideration, secular reasoning is capable of demonstrating that justice is not served by punishment alone; that the common good can be served by rehabilitation.

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The reality is that there does not exist a purely secular religion as there does not exist a purely theistic religion. The point I am trying to make is that human behavior, both individual, culturally, and socially can be spoken of in terms of religion.  My purpose in writing about secular and theistic religion is to illustrate the abundance of religious practice found in all human activity.  To be clear, there are strengths and weaknesses found in any religion whether it is secular or theistic, and I do not wish to put any of these perspectives as being better or worse than the other.

In my next post, I will take a closer look at theistic religion.

Until next time, stay faithful.