Lately I've been surprising myself. My churchless psyche isn't nearly as down on religion as it was a few years ago, when I was closer to my saying "goodbye" to an organized spiritual, mystical, and metaphysical belief system.
This is natural.
Right after I got divorced from my first wife some twenty-one years ago, I thought about her much more, and considerably differently, than I do now. We've each moved on to other relationships. Emotions and attachments, whether positive or negative, almost always fade with time.
It still bothers me when fundamentalists expect other people to accept their view of reality on faith, rather than on the basis of demonstrable evidence. If you want me to believe that abortion should be illegal, or intelligent design taught in schools, you'd better bring better reasons than "the Bible tells me so."
However, I'm coming to realize that if religiosity is seen as akin to an art form, a means of creative expression and a way of conveying human dreams/desires, then expressions of faith aren't nearly as objectionable.
Indeed, they can even be admirable.
Many atheists and agnostics enjoy the atmosphere in religious services. They like the often-astounding architecture of places of worship. Devotional music can be profoundly moving to unbelievers. (When I hear the "Hallelujah Chorus," I feel a chill.)
I understand the appeal of worshiping a divine being who loves, guides, and protects. I grasp why people are so attracted to the prospect of immortality and an eternity spent in a pleasant heaven. I resonate with a desire to experience the mysteries of higher domains of reality and/or consciousness.
I've had these feelings myself for most of my life. Indeed, I still have them to some extent. They've just changed form -- in the direction of the above-mentioned artistry, and away from realism.
I still talk to God.
Along with alien beings, ascended masters, departed souls, divine gurus, and any other being who might be listening in on my consciousness when I meditate every morning. Now, though, I don't expect a response, an answer, a two-way conversation.
When I feel like expressing myself religiously, spiritually, or mystically, I do. Occasionally I even drop to my knees before I go to bed (never when my wife is in the room; that would be too embarrassing) and repeat the Lord's Prayer just as I did in the days of my Catholic youth.
I'm curious to see how it feels to do that now. I want to experience how different the prayer's words sound at the age of 61 rather than eight. I'm interested in walking in a Christian's shoes for a minute, even if it is just pretending.
There's the key to religious artistry, as I see it: knowing the difference between personal expression, and universal reality.
We can admire all sorts of art -- paintings, music, sculptures, books, poetry, weavings, photography, whatever -- without believing that the artist's vision is anything more than a manifestation of his or her subjective view of life and the world.
The same can be true of religious devotion, ritual, and worship. It's what people do, when they feel drawn in that creative direction. We're all artists in our own way, religious believers included.
Hmm. That's interesting. I'm not sure if I've EVER dropped to my knees in prayer; I certainly don't do it now. I used to talk toward the supreme being, but, since I no longer think it exists, I don't waste my breath. Hey, but to each his or her own!
Posted by: The Rambling Taoist | June 03, 2010 at 12:36 AM
I used to kneel beside my bed, with my elbows on the mattress, when I did my pre-sleep prayers as a kid. So to recreate the experience, I get in the same posture. Like I said, I don't believe there is a God who hears me, but art isn't about objective reality; it's about subjective expression.
Also, I'm pretty sure that I, myself, don't exist. But I talk to myself often. Is that any crazier than talking to a God who doesn't exist?
Posted by: Brian Hines | June 03, 2010 at 07:18 AM
Yes, I particularly enjoy the architecture of the Cardston Alberta Morman Temple
The Prairie Style in the Rocky Mountains, 1910-1920 The bold designs of early-twentieth century America’s most innovative and influential architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, had a profound impact on Mormon architecture between 1910 and 1920. Although Wright built only one religious building during his early career, Latter-day Saint architects imitated and adapted his “Prairie Style” for more than two dozen Mormon meeting houses, tabernacles, and temples. The selection of a brilliant modern design for the Alberta Temple in a 1912 Church-wide architectural competition gave the blessing of Church leaders to this progressive style.
Posted by: Roger | June 03, 2010 at 08:09 AM
Welcome to multiculturalism Brian
Posted by: dr.TAO | June 03, 2010 at 10:13 AM
dr. TAO, I've always embraced multiculturalism. When I was twelve, or thereabouts, I went to San Francisco's Chinatown for the first time -- around 1960.
Even though I'd never been exposed to Chinese culture, I spent my allowance on scrolls, wall hangings, posters, and such. They stayed in my room all through high school.
Sort of strange. I have no idea why I was so instantly attracted to Taoist sorts of paintings showing a tiny figure walking along a majestic mountain path, all foggy, tree'y, and such. Maybe it was because I grew up in the foothills of the Sierras and did just that: walked as a tiny figure all over the mountains.
Anyway, wanted to mention that it has been religious fundamentalism that turns me off, not multiculturalism. I think there's a considerable difference. Every culture has some way of relating to a hypothesized divinity. That isn't going to be eradicated from the human brain/nature.
But I hope people can come to look on their beliefs as akin to artistic expression, not a reflection of objective reality. Lots of people (women mostly) like to read romance novels. They get drawn into an imaginary literary world that is attractive to them, that meets some needs/desires/wants of their psyches.
Nothing wrong with that. Religion meets needs also. We just need to remember that our personal wants aren't necessarily connected with the way the cosmos really is.
Posted by: Brian Hines | June 03, 2010 at 10:44 AM
Brian,
Did you ever live in Alberta?
Posted by: Carol Lefebvre | July 17, 2010 at 05:59 PM
Carol. no. I've only lived in the United States: Massachusetts, Texas, California, Oregon. But Canada sounds appealing.
Posted by: Brian Hines | July 17, 2010 at 06:09 PM