Sunday, September 16, 2012
Crisis of Faith Part 2--What I Believe
"I think I might become a Buddhist," I told a fellow student in the twilight hours of campus yesterday. They were not totally surprised, since I'd been talking about my Zen class non-stop for the last twenty minutes, but I was surprised at myself as the words cut across the night air. It's only been a week since I've landed back in Caldwell and begun taking this Zen class, and yet everything we've discussed so far has had a direct and profound application to my life, right here and right now. Having had a similar experience over a year ago with the Buddhism beginners class I knew that this would be something I'd enjoy learning and studying again. Eventually my peer said goodnight and parted with these valuable words:
"Of course, you can do what you want. But don't just jump into something because it feels right in this moment. No one's going to agree to everything a religion has to offer, and maybe at the end of the semester, when you're no longer taking this course, your mind will change. Take time to think about what it is you believe, and then decide what church to follow. "
What it is you believe...
So what DO I believe? I ask myself in the dawning Sunday hours, having pulled another all-nighter with an over-active brain and a list of things to do by Monday. After a lot of thought, this is what I've come up with:
1. I believe that faith is about trust. You trust in something larger than yourself and you trust that that larger thing is not going to turn its back on you when you need it most. Whether or not that "larger thing" is God, a different deity, fate, the spaghetti monster, aliens, science or the stars is up to you. But when you trust in that thing you give it part of yourself and make yourself vulnerable to the possibility of doubt or failure. You have to hold to that trust to make you stronger as you live day to day. Let go and you lose yourself. That is kind of a scary thing, but a wonderful thing.
2. I believe that "church" does not begin with a building and a group of people. It begins with yourself. What you learn or take away from church starts with your own attitude and how willing you are to see things a different way, discover something you didn't know, and be open-hearted to the little whisperings of "this is true" or "this is right." If you decide to attend a church regularly do it for yourself and for your own desire to find truth, not because you are scared of hellfire or want to be social or feel pressured by family and friends.
3. "Gospel" and man's "law" are two different things. I have seen way too many good people be burned by the idea that they --must-- live a certain rule because the social pressure at church tells them so. Friends of mine have been told they are going to hell because they had one beer, or because they have tattoos, or because they work on Sundays and consequently they become consumed with guilt, anger, or isolating hopelessness; often leaving church for good. What bothers me about the "good" church-goers who take it upon themselves to "out" people in this way is that they are missing the entire point of having rules on conduct or consumption. Church leaders ask their members to abstain from certain things or pay particular devotion to certain things not because that's the black and white of it and they'll go to hell if they don't, but because somewhere in the gospel there is a higher law that, if followed, can improve your life and bless you as you continue to learn and grow.
Making mistakes does not make you hopeless and should never outcast you from your religion. It is difficult to ever learn the value of a rule if you never break it. In the example of the beer, many religions advise against drinking in excess because they recognize the harm that alcoholism can cause, and then Man took it to a higher level and said that NO alcohol should be consumed, to avoid the possibility of problems altogether. The higher law for working on Sundays dates back to Biblical times when that day was set aside to be reminded of one's faith and relationship to God, and so work was discouraged to eliminate the things that could distract from such worship. Man then took it one step forward and now many members look down on those who work on Sunday, or snub them in their social groups, or gossip about them behind their backs. Is this what God intended? I think not. The things that bother me the most about organized religions don't stem from the gospels, but from the people.
4. No one is perfect. We weren't created to be and we never can be in this life. It can be discouraging sometimes to think you are the only one who has made dumb mistakes, or had a shred of doubt about your faith. If I've learned anything in my three years of wandering it's that even the people I most admire for their steadfastness in their religion have made mistakes and learned and come back from them again, making them ideal teachers for others walking the same rough roads. I wish that every religious meeting was full of people who would be honest about their mistakes--and expel forever this idea that someone is "better" than someone else because they have not erred in the same way.
5. Repentance, or the idea of righting your wrongs and growing as an individual is a daily, deeply personal process, and it shouldn't be viewed as a checklist. One thing that appeals to me in Buddhism is the idea of karma, or the natural cause and effect cycle brought on by your actions. When you make poor judgments or act in a way that hurts others, you create negative karma and it returns to you in some form, whether in this life or another. When it comes back to you, you have the chance to response with more negativity or in a gracious, positive way, gaining good karma. In this way every day is an opportunity to better yourself, to embrace whatever life throws at you and to not sink in despair every time you make a poor judgment. It is daily living with hope. And hope is something I desperately love.
6. I'll just share one more. The idea of the afterlife. I don't totally subscribe to any of the ideas I've studied or heard before. Instead my view is simple--when we die, we are placed somewhere we will feel the most at ease, be able to fill the greatest amount of need, and ultimately, exist in a place where we can be happy. This idea includes being surrounded by those you knew and had connections with in this life, such as family, friends, peers, teachers, and coworkers. I don't believe that we are separated from these connections at death.
This is what I believe. It may not match what you believe (and isn't that a wonderful thing?) and it is in a constant state of change, just as everything that makes us who we are is constantly changing.
