image by sspiehs3 at pixabay
When John Lennon urged the world to “imagine there’s no religion,” he made a lot of people really mad. Immediately nearly everyone missed the point and assumed he meant we should have no religion. Even people who couldn’t care less about spirituality or their own souls got in on the ruckus. Decades later those words still stick in some people’s craws.
No doubt: religion, like politics, is one of the premier hot button issues in our society. I was always taught to avoid discussing it “in public” when I was growing up (still good advice, by the way.) But regardless of whether a person is religious or not, he should examine that faith (or the lack of it) from time to time. When we’re kids we’re told what to believe by our parents or the institutions we’re raised in. Maybe we see what our friends’ families do and we assimilate their beliefs and traditions. Some upbringings don’t include religion at all. As kids, we just roll along with it.
But as we grow up, we need to assess what’s in our heads. Such introspection can deepen the beliefs and connections we have or it could wipe them out entirely. Skipping that reflection, however, doesn’t do us any favors. Especially if we are raising kids of our own. Nothing is worse for a parent than waffling. Knowing what we care about helps us live better. And happier.
Still, the thought of questioning our beliefs can be scary. You have to be willing to admit you’re wrong about some things or that you have work to do. Some research, perhaps. Reflection. Trial by error. It’s not the same as just ditching your religion because you hated going to church when you were little (or now.) Of course, one could do just that: abandon it all. But it tends to nag at you anyway. Like constantly wondering if you left the stove on.
My own introspection began ages ago when I was a teenager in Catholic high school. Believe it or not, our education there included quite a bit about other religions and philosophies. We learned about Catholicism in religion class, yes, but we also got to know other faiths and secular belief systems in history, humanities, and literature. Nothing was hidden or disdained. My teachers accepted and respected questions. That kind of openness set the stage for me and my classmates to think for ourselves.
It was during my senior year that the idea of God within took hold. I knew what intuition was, but I didn’t respect it the way I have since learned to (those around me slammed the idea.) Such pushback, however, never fully silenced that inner voice. It still managed to cry out loud enough when I really needed it . There were times when, completely uncharacteristic of me, I did listen to its warnings over the years. I knew it had safeguarded me. Eventually I decided I was not going to suppress it, or my respect for it, anymore.
There are some who believe that our best internal voices really are the words of God. Regardless of whether you agree with that statement, it makes one wonder. Is that what various prophets and believers meant when the Bible said they “heard” the word of God? It certainly seems likely. We’ve all heard about or experienced an idea that comes out of the blue and turns out to be spot on. Or a hunch that leads to actions that save lives. Why couldn’t this be God? Some folks believe the devil works this way (sneaking temptations into one’s thoughts). Wouldn’t God, or Yahweh or Brahmin or whatever you call it, be able to do the same thing?
Prayer is what some folks refer to as “talking to God.” But isn’t it also a way to focus on the good? To literally express hope for the best? Most people pray for healing or strength or for an end to suffering, for themselves or others. Isn’t that really simply striving to build and maintain a positive, resilient mindset? I know, “mindset” is a buzzword, but isn’t the right state of mind exactly what we’re asking for when we pray? It is, after all, truly the only thing we can control.
I’m not saying I’m God. Or even that I understand what God is. But I’ve noticed that the historical religious figures we listen to the most (Moses, Jesus, Buddha et. al.) say the same things. Be still. Do unto others. Do not worry or fear. It’s all about listening to one’s soul. Cultivate physical silence so you can be strengthened and inspired.
Which brings me to the question in the title: are we getting this all wrong? Is prayer and religion about worship? What good does it do to focus on the historical figures of Christianity (or Judaism or Islam) themselves? So much of what I was taught about prayer as a kid was about adoration and praise. And that’s okay, as such practices are really expressing gratitude. But I have trouble believing Jesus wanted us to worship him. When he said the only way to the Father was through him, surely he didn’t mean we needed to butter him up? That we needed to fawn over his memory and tell him how cool he is so we could get into heaven?
Since I am Christian, I can only speak to that tradition directly. I respect any form of religion, prayer, and spirituality people express. No one needs me to validate his viewpoint. But that also means I don’t need anyone else to validate mine. The Christian tradition, like all others, has a sordid past (and present, for that matter.) Corrupt bishops and popes and priests have done heinous things. Some are still perpetrating their own agendas.
But good people have always been part of the Christian equation as well. Churches build hospitals; they provide homes for displaced people; they sponsor kitchens to literally feed the hungry. Many schools in poor areas of this country and others are sponsored by a church. So there are good works coming out of the traditional, “worship me” God paradigm. Still, is that the best way to manifest the change Jesus wanted to see in our world?
I don’t need to disparage the Catholic Church or any of it’s cohorts. But I do know now that I’m not of the “worship” mindset. I don’t fit into it. Not going to church wasn’t a decision I made because I couldn’t be bothered. Because it was not “convenient.” I decided to embrace what worked. For me.
Praying, meditating, and tithing by giving to whatever good causes come across my path. Continually striving to be a better person than I was yesterday. Supporting others who are trying to figure things out instead of judging them. I. e., doing unto others.
It’s actually a lot harder than just showing up at church once (or more) a week. And yes, I know that “showing up at church” is only part of what most Christians espouse. Of course they support good works and introspection. But too often church becomes just another man made thing that men (and women) screw up. We bring our human natures with us everywhere and sometimes that humanity really ruins things. Especially in the emotionally charged arena of religion and spirituality.
Perhaps any introspection, whether one calls it prayer or religion or something else, is good. Finding out what motivates us, what inhibits us, and what roles we can fill in this world is what life is. There’s no way that only one religion or philosophy is the right one. When Jesus said he was the way he couldn’t have meant literally. I mean, c’mon, I’m supposed to change water into wine? Distribute a few loaves and fish to a crowd of thousands?
He led by example. His way was the way of love, respect, humility, and service. From my viewpoint, I see nearly eight billion ways of implementing that.