We have a program at my church where at 9:30, before the main service, a church member speaks to their spiritual journey (Odyssey) from whenever it began until they came to All Souls. In 2004 when I, quite by accident discovered the Unitarian-Universalist denomination the atmosphere was extremely Humanistic. By definition: Humanism is a philosophical stance that emphasizes the value and agency of human beings; no need for a condescending, supernatural god or a faith anchored in medieval ignorance. Our faith is manifest in what we do rather than what we say we believe.
The lady sharing her Odyssey last week is a relatively new member (2 years) fifty-ish, highly educated, well traveled and an open minded, forward leaning, progressive, lifelong Catholic. Her story was enlightening and when you’re allowed to travel that journey with them it’s easy to identify; we all fall down and get back up. But it confirmed and reinforced what I already know about faith based religion.
Even before organized religion people have known and struggled with the certainty of their own mortality, falling back on hope first and then belief in an afterlife. In that first millennium after Jesus, the Emperor (Constantine) adopted Christianity as the religion of the Roman Empire. What he and his advisors believed is secondary to the way they used religion to influence and manipulate the masses. The fear vs. salvation caveat was then, still is the best vehicle to unify large numbers of otherwise strangers in both their loyalty to each other, their leaders, to authority and to a cause, their nation. Over the next thousand years that scheme has recycled over and over and is still the most potent unifier that civilization has ever employed.
The lady’s story confirmed the popular idea (among Catholics) that Nuns have been telling every generation: “Give me a child for six years and they will be Catholics forever.” As recently as 4 years ago she had been a doubter, questioning the disparity between the churches rhetoric and its practice. But the addictive nature of ritual and peer pressure may be incurable; the collective kneeling, crossing one’s self, Hail Marys, confession; together they cement the parts and pieces so the whole construct survives. Her story reached a crisis when her daughter came out LGBT. The church, priests, bishop showed little or no sympathy and zero tolerance. She was faced with a choice between the faith of her upbringing and her conscience. She’s been a UU now for a couple of years; like most of us who were pointed this way by a friend or in my case it was a random discovery. In either case she still takes comfort attending mass occasionally, simply because the ritual feels familiar and safe in the moment and she still believes in God.
There was no crisis in my spiritual trajectory, no scars. In my growing up I wanted very much to please my mother who was as devout a believer as ever drew a breath and going along was easy. About the time I moved my family far away and my kids were going to Sunday school I had if not a revelation then a stroke of insight. Either I had grown all the way up or my mom was far enough away; the stories and propaganda my kids were getting at church went too far and that peer bond between believers was a small sacrifice for my secular leap of logic and reason. We just quit going and Sunday mornings were peaceful.
What really touched me listening to the lady last Sunday was how much our spiritual community had changed since I came aboard in ’04. We still have an abundance of Atheists and Agnostics but the hardboiled, aggressive attitudes had mellowed, giving way to a wider, deeper sense of conscience. I am one of those Agnostics who does’t know and doesn’t care. That hardwired need to believe in something mysterious is still at work. I still react with awe and wonder when lightning and thunder strike over my head in the same split second. I understand the physics. Loose electrons closing a circuit are not mysterious but I’m programmed to go slack-jawed and feel so small in that split second. I don’t understand everything and maybe feeling helpless is part of the journey.
The lady sharing her Odyssey last week is a relatively new member (2 years) fifty-ish, highly educated, well traveled and an open minded, forward leaning, progressive, lifelong Catholic. Her story was enlightening and when you’re allowed to travel that journey with them it’s easy to identify; we all fall down and get back up. But it confirmed and reinforced what I already know about faith based religion.
Even before organized religion people have known and struggled with the certainty of their own mortality, falling back on hope first and then belief in an afterlife. In that first millennium after Jesus, the Emperor (Constantine) adopted Christianity as the religion of the Roman Empire. What he and his advisors believed is secondary to the way they used religion to influence and manipulate the masses. The fear vs. salvation caveat was then, still is the best vehicle to unify large numbers of otherwise strangers in both their loyalty to each other, their leaders, to authority and to a cause, their nation. Over the next thousand years that scheme has recycled over and over and is still the most potent unifier that civilization has ever employed.
The lady’s story confirmed the popular idea (among Catholics) that Nuns have been telling every generation: “Give me a child for six years and they will be Catholics forever.” As recently as 4 years ago she had been a doubter, questioning the disparity between the churches rhetoric and its practice. But the addictive nature of ritual and peer pressure may be incurable; the collective kneeling, crossing one’s self, Hail Marys, confession; together they cement the parts and pieces so the whole construct survives. Her story reached a crisis when her daughter came out LGBT. The church, priests, bishop showed little or no sympathy and zero tolerance. She was faced with a choice between the faith of her upbringing and her conscience. She’s been a UU now for a couple of years; like most of us who were pointed this way by a friend or in my case it was a random discovery. In either case she still takes comfort attending mass occasionally, simply because the ritual feels familiar and safe in the moment and she still believes in God.
There was no crisis in my spiritual trajectory, no scars. In my growing up I wanted very much to please my mother who was as devout a believer as ever drew a breath and going along was easy. About the time I moved my family far away and my kids were going to Sunday school I had if not a revelation then a stroke of insight. Either I had grown all the way up or my mom was far enough away; the stories and propaganda my kids were getting at church went too far and that peer bond between believers was a small sacrifice for my secular leap of logic and reason. We just quit going and Sunday mornings were peaceful.
What really touched me listening to the lady last Sunday was how much our spiritual community had changed since I came aboard in ’04. We still have an abundance of Atheists and Agnostics but the hardboiled, aggressive attitudes had mellowed, giving way to a wider, deeper sense of conscience. I am one of those Agnostics who does’t know and doesn’t care. That hardwired need to believe in something mysterious is still at work. I still react with awe and wonder when lightning and thunder strike over my head in the same split second. I understand the physics. Loose electrons closing a circuit are not mysterious but I’m programmed to go slack-jawed and feel so small in that split second. I don’t understand everything and maybe feeling helpless is part of the journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment