Merry Whatever

I have many Christian friends. The more fundamental they are, the more I can see it in their averted eyes – after a defeated attempt to puzzle out my religious beliefs, downright anxiety takes place as they realize they would actually have to ask. It’s a shame. Religion and spirituality – dangerous subject, of course, but silence about them converts the issue into a family holiday farce: the kind where everyone is too polite to spoil the day with uncomfortable questions; therefore assumptions must be made to flesh out what you know about the life of your loved one, until years later you at last realize how depressingly nominal all your relationships to these people actually are. All bones, no blood.

I wish they’d ask, but then again I don’t want to harangue them with a universally awkward topic. No, that’s what writing is for.

So here’s the answer, followed by my explanation. If I really had to identify with something, I’d go ahead and cite Buddhism. An American white girl’s loose interpretation of a modern Buddhist.

And no, I didn’t arbitrarily come to this conclusion so that I could intentionally be different, cool or unusual (a religion rebel!). If I wanted to bring attention to my spirituality, I’d wear robes – join clubs – go to ‘church.’ But I don’t. For me true spirituality is an internal affair, best nurtured in hushed tones within the inner chamber of the soul.

That said, I haven’t found that any organized religion truly respects that individual need. In fact, I’d like to make an outrageous blanket statement: organized religions function as a tool to judge, divide and curtail the growth of the individual spirit. How can any rational person accept that?

I realize this sounds harsh, but I’m not trying to be hurtful – just honest about my interpretations. I grew up Catholic, surrounded by Baptists, Mormons and Muslims. My sister is a Unitarian, my grown-up friends include Jewish, Wiccan, and atheists. I suppose that after a lifetime of feeling disconnected to All of the Above has led me to question, profoundly, the role of spirituality and religion within the lives of myself and others.

In Buddhism, the main points of entry (and it’s okay to hover at the door) provide tools for living a well-intentioned life. Surely, all religions can agree that this is important, but few actually stress this as their primary agenda – the individual who matters most is a Holy John Doe, not the practitioner.

The Four Noble Truths sum it all up in a nutshell: existence is suffering. Suffering grows from desire. You must release your ephemeral and material desires in order to attain peace, or ‘enlightenment.’ Follow this up with basic tenets of the Eightfold Path: love and help others, listen and communicate, do good deeds, find peace within. There are obviously a few more, but that’s the big idea. Similar to the Ten Commandments and nothing far out there, save the emphasis on meditation as a means to be ‘inwardly attentive’ and create a personal sense of peace. In other words, what I like about Buddhism is that I’m responsible for my own spirituality.

I don’t believe that priests can magically subsume my faults and my mistakes. I don’t believe that the Bible, the Quran or the Torah were written by God – they are historical documents written by fanatics; well-intentioned documents but full of their own dangerous faults. Believing in them literally is akin to classifying The Lord of the Rings as a documentary. I fear religions that endorse such a lack of critical thinking among their masses – and religious leaders are well aware that education (or a lack thereof) is a powerful tool for controlling the herd.

That said, it’s fine if you are in a religion. I think most people feel obliged to identify themselves as something or other so that they can benefit from the association of membership – much like joining a fraternity or sorority, there are tangible social benefits. Most of my friends refer to themselves as Christian, despite their actions – what’s that about? They seem so unperturbed by the hypocrisy, as though being Christian is synonymous with a license to do anything they want, because they’ll be forgiven eventually, anyway. God isn’t in the details, apparently. It’s maddening.

Maybe they have social survival skills that I do not, so I’ll continue on my solitary, meditative way.

Solitary? Not the right word! I must say that introspection and meditation, prone to uncover the awkward, the ugly, the upsetting gap between mortal heaven and hell – is a source of solace and strangely enough, my most effective means of feeling connected to the universe around me. I dare say I’ve learned compassion. I may be hard on the idea of religion, but I know that we are all essentially the same – everyone is looking for peace, love, reassurance and magic. To quote Death Cab for Cutie: “it’s all different names for the same thing.”