May 18
I allowed myself to read the intro to one of my new books, The Closing of the Western Mind: The Rise of Faith and the Fall of Reason, by Charles Freeman. Bought it while Mom was here and she didn’t like the looks of it. Hard to know if she had a point or was just prejudiced until I read it. One of the scary things about getting older is realizing how defensive one’s parents are about things that are important to them, and how that defensiveness hints at what they do not know.
But that isn’t fair. They clearly know a lot more about faith than I do, from the inside, and I feel sure they would say that faith is more important to them than any intellectual understanding or knowledge. But for me, being the rationalist I’m sure they taught me to be, I can’t believe something with my heart that my brain doesn’t accept. I would like to have faith – a relationship with a loving God. But right now I can’t – except on a simultaneously very deep and very shallow level, because I have to know what kind of god I’m having a relationship with. I don’t mean what he/she/it looks like, or even what church he/she/it most approves of.
Third paragraph I almost began with But. Okay, but how does one read scripture for guidance when one is always wondering, “Yes, but how did this get into the canon? Why this and not something else? What do all the other texts that didn’t make it have to say about this issue? Who actually wrote this and what was his political agenda? How can I possible believe this is what God said, wanted, thought, when there have been so many opportunities for human corruption?
I find myself reading the Bible with great intensity and excitement, but no longer with innocence. Hindus and Buddhists, even Jews and Muslims make far greater sense to me than Christians do. At least the Christianity of today. So, I find a need to steep myself in the history. If I am going to be a Christian it will likely be as a heretical one. And so I need to find answers for myself about how Christianity got to be the way it is, and see if there is anything at the core I can believe in. It is unfortunate that the Christians I know know so little about their own religion outside of the very particular brand they practice. And actually – it supports the thesis of this book; mostly what I get from Mom and Dad is “Oh, I don’t know about that and I don’t want to know.” And from my students, of course, it is much worse.
I guess I keep harping on it – and will continue to – because I find it [that attitude] confusing and distasteful. The confusing part is how otherwise intelligent, open-minded people can be so, not irrational, but anti-rational and closed minded when it comes to things that are truly important. It is distasteful to me because it often smacks of fear. To me, having “the courage of our convictions” means facing fear, doubt, etc. But sometimes from my parents I feel they are afraid of learning something, as if the whole structure will fall apart if one brick proves faulty. That’s not a belief system I’d want to stand on.
I find myself in the unflattering position of feeling contemptuous of a couple whose faith I have seen working, and whose love for me and for others is deep and unquestionable. And yet, why are they afraid to discuss the construction of the canon? I guess it is very modern of me, but I hate the idea of people believing things out of fear. I’ve said since I was a teen that I’d rather spend eternity in hell than believe something because I was afraid not to. And the thing is, I just can’t make myself believe in a God who would throw me in hell just because I used the mind he gave me.
The whole story of the Garden of Eden and the Tree of Knowledge gives me the heebie-jeebies. It always has – or at least, as far back as I can remember. Why in the world would an all-knowing and loving God do that? He knew what would happen – he designed the creatures so that they would disobey, and then punishes them for it? So, if I genetically engineer a child to be curious, if I love it would I then put neat things in front of it and tell the child not to touch them? And if I did that, and the child touched them, would I be right to punish it eternally? And all of its descendents?
Jesus supposedly said something about how even imperfect humans know how to love their children, so how much more does our heavenly father know how to love us? To me, these two stories are in flat contradiction. If true, there seem to me only two ways to interpret the Genesis story. Either 1) What God does and his reasons for doing it are so incomprehensible that there is no point in ever trying to figure out what He means, or 2) those Gnostics who claim Yahweh was a lesser god who, on an egomaniacal rampage convinced himself he’d done away with the other gods, is largely in control. Not all-powerful, not all-knowing, just sort having a fit teenage rebellion.
The first thing that strikes me as I read this today is fear that it is going to hurt my Mother's feelings. I really do not want to hurt her or anyone else. So why am I posting it? Because this is a recurring refrain - not just with Mom, but with a few other Christians I know who often take my questions or doubts personally. There is this tender area, fraught with tension, surrounding all questions for which there are no or difficult answers. Its about disclosure, I guess. I want my cards to be all on the table. That's why I'm posting it, even though it might hurt. And I post this reminder, that just because I thought it, and even though I still think that there is a tendency to be defensive on behalf of Christianity as a religion, and on behalf of the Bible (I.e. for being inconsistent), and on behalf of other Christians, doesn't mean I'm right.
Anyway, the second thing that occurred to me as I read this was what a struggle it has always been for me to wear both my anthropological and my Christian hats at the same time, whereas that has been less of a problem when pursuing other faiths. There I sat, reading an important Hebraic myth, and it did not even occur to me to analyze it as a myth! For the first few months of grappling with Christian theology again (see below) on an emotional level, I seem to approach it without any of the tools I had just picked up with 10 years of study. I reverted right back to where I had left off, or perhaps even farther back.
May 22
In terms of the book Mom didn’t like the looks of, I’ve found a couple of errors and one area of sloppy research, so it does cast doubt on his scholarship. Overall, though, I think he’s pretty even-handed. He isn’t one of those people who is so pissed off at the church that he can’t be objective. So that’s good. And most of what he’s talked about so far I already knew. But it is helpful to have certain things re-iterated. I can’t wait to be able to turn my whole mind over to these other non-dissertation things!
May 27
I’m trying to get back to serious study of Closing . . ., but I feel like I need to read it side by side with Armstrong’s History of God, because I trust her more than him. And that ends up seeming like a lot of work. In the meantime, I just finished reading Mary Doria Russell’s The Sparrow, and am about to start in on the sequel. She writes so beautifully, and I was beginning to feel the unfairness of examining Christianity with only the intellect, since it is the faith experience that is so essential to the religion. Russell deals unflinchingly with the most difficult challenges to faith – both intellectually and spiritually/emotionally.
May 31
[reading previous journals]
1994 – Humboldt was really good to me. In May of ’94 I was becoming a Christian for all the same reasons I’ve held since then. Except my faith is no longer so strong that there IS Someone who cares about me (us) and sees or makes a pattern in our lives. Maybe I’m just not allowing myself to make the leap. To feel the pull. Although, I finished Mary Doria Russell’s second book today, and she said, or had a character say, that what breaks God’s heart is not pain or hate or denial, but indifference. Surely I can’t be accused of ever being indifferent to God. Sometimes I’ve hated, sometimes been bent on knowing what exactly God is, sometimes I’ve despaired of ever finding Him/Her. But I can’t recall ever being indifferent.
I was learning about faith. What happened? Oh yeah, the cynicism of graduate school. Why did I give in to it? Pure peer pressure. A sense that I wasn’t strong enough, smart enough, myself, unless I joined the herd.
July 4
The other issue that occurred to me this morning is his [Dad’s] attitude and his beliefs about homosexuality. This one kills me. I found out a couple years ago that he is really prejudiced against gay people. We had a big discussion about it. I think we were actually talking about gay clergy, because the Episcopalian church had just ordained, or installed, a gay bishop. It got a lot of coverage here because he was from Kentucky. But I was there in { } for Mom’s by pass surgery.
It was also when he was in the middle of having to choose between a mediocre organist with the right sexuality or an excellent one who is gay. He eventually made the right decision, but it wasn’t easy for him, and I could hardly believe it. His feeling is that homosexuality is clearly a sin. It says so in the Bible in several places, and he said he felt we cannot practice moral relativism. A sin is a sin, no matter what the prevailing social norms. In theory, he adopted the “hate the sin, love the sinner” credo, but in fact I think this organist was the first gay person – that he knew of – that he has ever gotten to know, and he was certainly struggling with having to reach out to him Christian love.
So, for the church to ordain openly gay ministers, Dad feels they would be saying that in fact you can pick which parts of God’s words you are going to obey, and which you’ll ignore. I can buy that. I don’t agree with him, but it is a tenable position to hold.
He wasn’t sure if sexuality is innate or not. But I asked him if that were so, didn’t it mean that God had made them that way? And if so, how can it be a sin? He felt that even if you were born with the tendency to desire members of your own sex, you don’t have to act on it. The sin is not the feeling, it is the behavior. Never mind what Jesus said about lust in the heart being the equivalent of the behavior. Let’s just focus in on his belief that 10% of the world’s population must learn to control their sexuality – must fight their nature their entire lives – or they will spend eternity in hell.
August 3
Spent the rest of the day reading Mary Doria Russell’s latest book, A Thread of Desire. As I commented to Jim, that woman excels at writing books that are so painful you can barely stand to read them, but so beautiful you can hardly put them down. This one is about Jews in Italy during WWII. It’s set in 1943, when Italy has just declared armistice with the Allies, and Germany has promptly invaded. So all the Jews who’ve been trickling south and then make a break for Italy expecting a warm welcome are now fleeing from Nazis once again.
Someone like me simply cannot comprehend the hatred humans are able to maintain toward one another, nor the courage and faith of others that allows them to persist in loving others and God in the face of that hatred. We read and read, and I guess some write novels, and we study and research and some times are able to attach labels and theories to both phenomena – but they are really just mysteries, aren’t they? We really understand so very little of the workings of the human heart.
August 12
[after describing a quarrel with Jim]
But I’m asking myself right now, so what? So what if he never notices anything nice I do for him? I want him to live up to Paul’s description of love in Corinthians, but do I? Love doesn’t count the cost. Love does not keep a tally sheet. I need to do things for Jim out of my love for him. To offer as true gifts whatever I am able. . . Hindus, Buddhists and real Christians have it right – how can it possibly hurt me for Jim to remember more bad than good, or to blame me for everything, or to fail to notice something I’ve done, etc., if I am simply doing what is right for me to do, and offering myself to him as a loving gift? Do my duty without any expectations. And that doesn’t’ mean I have to do his duty. It doesn’t make me a door mat.
Okay, I know that I want to become more like the old me, only better. How do I get there? I think it would be good idea to get out Paul’s definition of love and St. Francis’ prayer, the “Where there is hatred, let me bring love” one, and read them slowly and meaningfully every day. Pray them, really. That would help me get my head in the right place before I start my day. Then, as the Buddha instructed, I need to watch myself. Notice, be aware of my behavior and ask myself why I’m doing it. As I become more and more aware of my motivations, using this forum to help me, I ought to be able to change.
August 13
Need to find those prayers I mentioned. I believe we are what we think. Our minds have tremendous control over our bodies. So if I have those reminders every morning of what I’d like to be, I think over time I will naturally live my life in accordance, without having to work quite as hard. As the wise Buddha said, having the Right View and the Right Intent go a long way toward helping one have Right Speech and Right Conduct.
August 15
One thing I forgot to write here is that I had an insight about the no-soul, anatta doctrine of Buddhism. I learned that the founder of Jainism lived and preached about the same time and in the same area as the Buddha. He taught that karma is a real, physical substance. It’s atoms attach themselves to the jiva and accumulate there. They are attracted by acts of violence and selfishness. The Buddha’s teachings make a lot more sense when seen in that context. I hope that by learning these things I’ll be able really show my students how important context is – that ALL of these religious doctrines took shape in particular, historical situations and formed as against other available doctrines – sometimes as part of vicious debates.
August 17
I also have not dug out those spiritual guides yet. I know I really need to. Need help focusing on others, remembering to make service to others my highest goal. Isn’t it interesting that the central theme of all the world’s major religions is to turn from the self, to reduce selfishness or self-centeredness? It does make one wonder if it isn’t all really just a way to make it possible for humans to live together. In other words, sociobiology is right, and religion, or the capacity for religion, was simply an evolutionary adaptation that allowed humans to be more successful by allowing them to work together more harmoniously. If so, the laugh is on us, isn’t it? Since more people have been killed in the name of religion than anything else? Of course, those wars are in direct contradiction of the doctrines of all religions, but what the hell.
September 27
As I was thinking about my religion class I remembered that I’d meant to watch “What the Bleep Do We Know?,” a movie that is kind of hard to categorize. It’s part documentary explaining quantum physics, and what it teaches us about the nature of reality and thus spirituality. It’s also part story – how one woman has trapped herself in a life of pain by clinging mentally to her image of life as a painful place, and how she reorients herself by applying the new spirituality of physics which is really Hinduism.
I think it is quite powerful and might really help the students to think about these things in a different way. But it is long. I taped it, so I’m thinking to put it to a vote . . . I’d actually be more inclined if I could cut the story part out, but perhaps it will be meaningful to them. The movie was meaningful to me in that it challenges us to take seriously the proposition that we create our own reality. Not just spiritually, or psychologically, but materially, physically. We create our own bodies, maybe we even created/are creating/will create the very physical laws by which our universe is governed.
They discuss the connections between how our neurons fire to construct reality in our minds, how our bodies then create proteins and other chemicals that get sent out to our cells. Every emotion, as the Buddha pointed out, has a corresponding physical change – we now call that a chemical. Our cells can thus become addicted to our emotions. We have some control – no – we have total control over that; which neural networks do we construct over and over, by associating certain things together? “Neurons that fire together, wire together.” We can consciously break them, and thus break our addictions.
What if I choose to break my addiction to guilt? To worry? To feelings of inadequacy? To fear about the future? Would I not then be free to create new ways of being in the world? There were three things that really stood out to me that people said. Two actually by the person they interview in the film who annoys me the most. Not exactly sure why she does, her mannerisms, I guess, which may simply be because she’s SO real it makes me uncomfortable.
First, a theologian (Irish), before her says that all the time and effort we’ve put, in the West, into constructing a jealous, rule-crazy, punishing god, is not only incorrect – it is blasphemy. Then she says, to paraphrase, “To think about the immense size and glory and wonder of this universe, and to imagine that our little specks of humanity in the backwaters of the Milky Way can sin against the Creator of all that? It is not possible.” It is, of course, what one automatically understands when they look at the photos from deep space – all those galaxies, all these huge, beautiful, strange nebulae, the trillions and trillions of stars – a God that large could not possibly be seeking opportunities to punish me. As someone else says, it is the ultimate arrogance to create God in one’s own image. Not to mention the tragic waste of time and energy.
Later she says, “Do I think you are bad? No, I don’t think you are bad. I don’t think you are good, either. I think you are God.” Goes back to that Hindu idea of our ultimate responsibility for ourselves. So the third thing is a guy talking about his daily practice of picturing how he would like his day to go, what reality he would like to manifest in his life. People like Shakti Gawain have been saying such things for a long time, and I kind of ended up treating her as a nut. But why not? If we control literally everything, then why cannot I have a day in which I have great energy and enthusiasm and patience for my students? And my husband and family? Why not write application letters that will knock the socks off the people at the perfect liberal arts school for me? Why not a day in which pain has no control?
This will take practice. I need to break many well-established neural networks and chemical addictions. But with time, so they claim, it can be done. And as they, along with the Hindu and Buddhist saints, say, don’t accept this at face value; Try it! See if it works! So I began today, and I’ll keep working at it.
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