We don’t talk about religion. Many of us are afraid to mention it to each other. We might be on hiatus from being active in a congregation, but many of us probably look to the heavens and wonder. Is someone listening?
A friend of our family passed away last week. The cancer won, and this amazing man with so many talents became a shell. This happens so often. I’ve seen it at least three other times. The spirit of the one you love becomes trapped in a body that can’t fight anymore. In some cases, death seems to be freedom.
Each time I get a call from my mother about someone else, I always pull out my copy of The Book of Common Prayer. I have one page marked because it seems I come back to it quite often:
“Lord Jesus, stay with us, for evening is at hand and the day is past; be our companion in the way, kindle our hearts, and awaken hope…”
I fully admit that I struggle with a crisis of faith every day. I need something to believe in, but I find that I have identified with the journey, not the destination. While I may be taking a leap by talking about God, I can tell you, that leap is what keeps me going some days.
Sure, we can talk about God in the context of The Da Vinci Code or in the latest news reports from the Vatican. Political discussions always seem to bring up religious sides, and we see regularly what extremists like to do in the name of God. This isn’t new. We all have some understanding of the differences between faiths, even if we can’t tell the differences between denominations.
God may have no place in your life, but I’m sure goodness does. Kindness. Love. Things that provide you with a moral compass, even if you stray. You may not believe in an afterlife, or you may find that you suddenly promise to make up transgressions when you survive a car accident. You might talk to yourself as you walk home alone at night, secretly hoping that something else is watching over you. You may close your eyes after looking at a bank account balance and pray that next month with be better.
Life has gotten hard for many over the past year. Life has always been hard for others.
At the end of the day, why can’t we hope? Why can’t we trust in someone or something to walk with us? To light our way? To be a comfort?
Is it so wrong to believe in something?
I was sitting in church on Wednesday evening thinking about why all these people were here, thinking about why I was there. It happens to be lent and without going in depth too much, I started thinking about how the lentin season was the journey of Christ and maybe like me the other who had come to worship were there to make sure they were on the right track in their own lives. As you say, the journey is a little easier to identify with than the destination.
That really seems to be the key, I think people are happy enough to talk about and deal with their individual journeys in their careers and social lives, but when it comes to the journey that leads us all to the grave – we simply don’t like to talk about death. Not only that, we don’t want to talk about religion because it is the most death-centric way of thinking that still exists in a world which is completely afraid of the subject and anything related to it. And I am sure there are other reasons, but, that to me seems to be the biggest.
Hi David, Ash Wednesday is probably not too far behind Christmas and Easter for being a service people go to when not a weekly attendee. Lent is about a journey, and while people joke about giving up chocolate and Girl Scout Cookies, there is reflection and sacrifice that happens. While death is something we are all afraid of, I think of all the beautiful things: baptisms, weddings, ordinations, etc. We even celebrate life when we are in mourning. And no matter your religion, those celebrations are times to be together. If we weren’t so afraid to say something to our friends, we might have more opportunity to be together. Something we all need.
I really identify with this. I’m an actively practicing Mormon. I live in Utah and therefore have no problem openly speaking about faith.
However, it’s always strange to travel to other places and see how uncomfortable the subject makes other people. I think it’s largely the fault of those who try to force their religions on other people (which a lot of Mormons are guilty of). Don’t get me wrong, I fully support the active proselyting work that goes on in my religion and other religions as well. I think this can be done in a way that doesn’t make people feel uncomfortable or forced.
The point I identify with the most is having a “moral compass”. I just don’t think there is any more effective way to have a moral compass than by participating in religion (whatever religion it might be).
Hi Brant, I used to be the one who was afraid I would offend. I’m Episcopalian, so we let a lot of things slide that most faiths don’t. I can remember meeting a guy when I worked in the music library in college and chatting about weekend plans. Mine: beer pong tourney. His: I never found out. He said he was Mormon, didn’t drink, and walked away. Not that I always lead in with drinking, but it’s a normal part of college. Did he walk away from every person who mentioned it? I don’t know. Or I used to get in it with my Catholic friend who said women shouldn’t be priests. Is one human being’s faith worth less than another?
At the end of the day, however, I try to be good. Just as Emily Post helps me out in the etiquette world, the people in my faith community help in the spiritual one. I just wish I didn’t feel like I had to hide it.
That’s sad…I am always open with it but I just try to do it in a more conversational way instead of a preachy or judgmental way. I’ve never had a problem with people feeling uncomfortable. In fact, most of my friends growing up weren’t Mormons. After years apart from each other, they always thank me for being open with my beliefs and values because it gave them a different way to look at life.
That’s great to hear. I find that there’s so much to learn from people (regardless of the topic), that if someone is trying to be friendly, walking away so quickly doesn’t make sense. You’ll never know what you have in common. And when it comes to religion, learning why there are differences and finding similarities makes you grow. Then you can also help avoid hate and discrimination. How people don’t understand that, I don’t know. Thanks Brant.
Great post, Emily – and I was thinking about it on my train home tonight…Lent has always been my favorite part of the liturgical calendar – it comes to us in the most challenging part of the year for us northerners when we’re longing for light – we can see the promise of it, but it’s not here yet. The quiet time of reflection and taking stock has always been something I appreciated about the season.
I’ve gone from working in a Lutheran campus ministry to living in a commune, nearly going to seminary and now am a bit a adrift, not really an active part of a spiritual community. I don’t talk about faith much – it’s not something done much in Chicago – it feels like somewhat of an urban-liberal taboo. And I find that while I’m so grateful for my faith and occasional bouts of theological nerdfests with friends, I don’t feel like I’m missing “God” by not belonging to a church at the moment…what I do miss is being in Community. Being accountable to each other, caring for each other…and so the thought of wandering back to a Community life is coming to the fore – yet the rituals and some of the dogmatic trappings still give me pause. Lots to think about – thanks for giving it a frame for this Monday.
Jenn, like you, it’s the community that I really love. I know that I’m always going to have a love-hate relationship with the written Word. I think prayers are so eloquent, and yet I can’t stand literal interpretations. And I honestly don’t pray in a traditional manner. I’m more of a “Hey there, what’s up?” kinda gal. What I have found though, is that I don’t find the same comfort in routine rituals as I do in specific ones. For example, one priest from my church in Virginia used to give a sermon about three rings for weddings. He knows that when I get married, he’ll pull out that sermon for me.
I went to a Catholic school growing up, was raised Episcopalian, used to partner with a Synagogue in high school, and I’m still trying to figure it out. Some of the rules and restrictions bother me. But the people who have the same unsure journey as I do are great companions. Thanks for your insight, I really appreciate it.
Props to you, Emily, for writing about something many are afraid to even touch on. I’ve asked some of the same questions. In fact, I wrote a post a while back about whether faith and religion are important to Gen Y. As the daughter of a rabbi, faith has always played a big part in my life. Honestly, I’m not always sure exactly what I believe, but I know I believe in something, and I’m not afraid to say it. I love the way you express the different ways faith can play a part in peoples’ lives. Beautiful!
Hi Sam, thank you for telling me about your post (anyone who wants the link, it’s here: http://www.lifeschocolates.com/about-me/are-faith-and-religion-important-to-gen-y/)
I love that in your post you talk about religion and your relationship with is growing up. Seeing the other side where parents force it on their children. Since I’m a Sunday school teacher, I have a couple kids just like that. They’re at the age when they question everything, have way too much homework, and can’t really stand to feel they are forced to attend church. I have talked to a number of friends who didn’t participate in any religion growing up. They now wish there had been something. Then there would be a choice and not a fear of the unknown. I’m assuming that I’ll expose my children but not force them. I know I’ve found my own way in deciding what I want. But I’m not afraid to explore and know I won’t be disappointing my parents.
Thanks Sam!
This is such a relevant post! When I first moved to France my mom was very nervous – not about the distance there would be between us, how infrequently we would see each other, or even my general well-being, but whether I was going to be encounter any issues as a Jew. First of all, I don’t wear a sign on my forehead that says I’m Jewish, not to mention I don’t look like most of the Sephardic Jews that are in Paris. That’s not even the point.
When I was living in the States, in a county with a large percentage of Jews, I would wear a star of david not for religious signification but rather for cultural identification. I’m not practicing, but I nonetheless identify myself culturally with Jewish traditions. In Paris, although it has the largest population of Jews outside of the Middle East and the US, I still don’t feel comfortable. It’s not an issue for me but I am more hesitant to go broadcasting to everyone that I’m Jewish. I don’t want to start any trouble.
Since the Muslim population in Paris (and France in general) has largely exceeded that of the Jewish and is actually the largest in Europe, they unfortunately garner most of the criticism and attacks. But the notion of hiding one’s religion is seemingly fundamental to the French identity, a laic society where despite its heavily Catholic origins, they are made VERY uncomfortable by religion – hence the move to ban burqas (I don’t think it’s merely for women’s liberation).
All of that to say, we should all be able to BELIEVE in something, should we feel it. We should be able to SHOW it if we desire to and not feel ashamed. But religion has been the source of wars and dissidence since the begining of time and I don’t forsee a drastic, positive change in that sense. As you say, all we can hope for is a moral compass to guide us. Unfortunately that’s still too much to ask for a lot of people.
Lindsey, it’s funny because in college, the same people who wanted peace in the world wanted nothing to do with religion. This group wouldn’t even educate themselves to understand the fundamentals of Islam, Catholicism, Judaism, or any other faith that has been involved in conflict. How can we ask for peace when you don’t understand why people disagree? You don’t have to pick a side, but you should understand. People still protest, fight, and murder in the name of God. And yet this group didn’t want to know why.
And it’s so sad that a moral compass is too much. Everyday we fight over gay rights and abortion issues, so much for separation of church and state. At this point, that is the hardest part I deal with when it comes to religion. Rules that hurt each other, rules that take away free will, rules that divide. Why can’t we be good? Why can’t we love? I don’t know…thanks for sharing your thoughts and causing me to continue to explore my own.
It is not hard to believe in something. You’re so right.
However, why does believing in something have to only do with religion? Religion has been the “traditional” approach toward faith. I consider myself spiritual, but I was raised Catholic. I had extremely open-minded parents who found interest in many different religions and I grew up meditating and doing yoga, as well. So I’ve seen both sides of the spectrum. I consider myself someone filled with faith and a unique blend of a belief system. In addition, I have a problem when religions say “they are the only way” because to me, that’s just impossible.
Great post!
Hi Grace, I have the same struggle: where does religion actually fall? I am Episcopalian, so we’re pretty flexible when it comes to rules and restrictions. Part of my family is Jewish, and I have done a lot of study there. Additionally, throw in a number of other faiths, and I find that I love the idea of people gathering to share stories of faith. We do it on the news all the time: stories of miracle births or kindness of strangers. Lessons like proverbs. While I have no firm answer to my feeling of where religion plays a role, I think the sharing of stories and insight are so important. That’s the piece that helps me. Thanks Grace!
Maybe religion is a personal experience rather than something that needs to be shared?
Check out this article I wrote a long time ago (a little long, but read at your leisure)
http://thoughtsuncited.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/the-nature-of-god/
Thanks Mehul for sharing, I’ll check it out!
Thanks Emily for a great post. Trust me this is just what I needed today.
It is funny because what struck me is that you say you identify with the journey not the destination. I feel so much the same way. I know that as a Christian perhaps what is expected of me is the have this end goal of “heaven” and “salvation” in mind constantly. Only problem is that those things are so muddled in my mind with questions that I will never be able to answer and can only wait to find out.
What I do know is that on a day-to-day basis my faith is important. When I need guidance or just to feel like I’m not alone, my faith is what keeps me going. If it is wrong to believe in something that gives me that sort of reassurance, then I don’t want to be right. All the nuances and details about how what I believe fits in with what someone else believes are not something I generally worry about debating. I respect everyone’s beliefs. I believe in a God that is huge enough to understand so much more than I will ever be able to comprehend and I figure he’s taking care of all of that.
Hi Ashley, thanks for sharing your own perspective. I know I’ve been wrestling with a lot of uncertainty lately (though, who hasn’t), and I’ve had to just have faith. And it’s not even faith that things will work out, but that I can trust myself to also make good decisions when needed. I know as part of my own journey, I feel a sense of responsibility to use the gifts and opportunities I have. While I know that God probably has plans, I assume that He’s still expecting me to do my part. I think that’s fair. We all have different interpretations, and I know was we continue through life, we’ll even change our minds a few times. But I think that’s why faith is there. Thank you!
I read your post this morning, took pause to think about it, and it’s still very much resonating with me. I appreciate your openness.
You make excellent — and balanced — points here. This sticks with me: “God may have no place in your life, but I’m sure goodness does. Kindness. Love.”
My own background is one very much grounded in my religion and spirituality, though it’s not something I advertise with a neon sign. In fact, sometimes people are surprised when I mention that I keep a Sabbath or that I’m Christian (those two statements seem a little…weird…right?) or that I do such-and-such. I fall on the side of NOT talking about my beliefs because I don’t want to alienate those around me…particularly because there are so many knee-jerk reactions to the phrase “Christian” — most of which I take exception with. And I suppose that I don’t talk about faith largely because my peers don’t talk about it. Shame on me. Your words have inspired me to try a new approach.
And you’ve also inspired me to write about it. Thanks for the blog post fodder. 😉
Cali, thanks for sharing your own experience. When I think about the spectrum of talking about faith, I really don’t want to hide it. I’m not at the “shouting from the rooftops” end either. Someone brought that up in a conversation last week, throwing God into day-to-day office behavior. And yes, some of our moral guidance comes from religion, but it should be polite behavior not to lie to your coworker, no need to bring it up as a mortal sin.
In response to the comments here and my own thoughts continuing around this, I showed a movie to my Sunday school class called Swing Kids. It was about Nazi discrimination of a group that had little to do with religion. I wanted them to think outside the box about what defines people, what they fear and follow. It’s very interesting to hear their reactions.
Sorry if that wandered a bit, but thanks for the comment. I’m looking forward to your own post!
This is a great post: relevant and timely. As a new blogger, I’m always afraid to talk about faith in my posts. Don’t want to alienate anyone. But my faith is a part of who I am and so this beautiful post that you have written has challenged me to be my authentic self. If people don’t like that, well, that’s okay. I have to be happy with who I am and speak my truth in my own way – with love, tolerance and appreciation for the beliefs of others. I am very sorry for you loss. I pray that you and your family are comforted. Thanks for this post. We needed it.
Tiffany, I’m about two years into this blogging thing, and I still don’t know what to write about some days. I’ve been getting a bit more fearless in my postings, but every time I push the publish button, there is a panic. What I have found through the last few posts though, is that even if someone totally doesn’t agree with me, we’re continuing to get respectful responses from each other. I hear new perspectives. Since you’re starting out, go ahead and keep taking the temperature of your readers, knowing that the readership will change as time goes on. You will be surprised what people identify with, I know I am. Thanks!
Emily – your post kept popping into my head all weekend – thanks for giving my brain a little workout this week. Sunday morning as I was puttering early in the kitchen and listening to Speaking of Faith on NPR, one snippet caught me that immediately sent me scribbling in my journal:
“Lent is less for ‘giving up’ and more for making space.”
I love that. And even though I may not have a weekly Lenten practice at the moment, I love the idea of using this season for Making Space. In life, in my house, wherever space needs to be made.
Thanks for keeping me thinking…
Jenn, thank you for bringing this up. I know I try to take on something during Lent instead of giving something up. Like I’m trying to connect more with my Sunday school kids. I’m going to think about Making Space, too. I really like that. 🙂
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