All masters but one are false
The Rambling Taoist
I’m pleased to recommend a weblog, The Rambling Taoist, about my recently chosen faith. Sometimes I forget that I became a Taoist last October. Trey Smith, the Taoist who does the rambling, helps to remind me why I did. Of course, since the impulse for my conversion was forgetting something, I suspect that the more I forget about Taoism the better Taoist I will be.
Trey writes about both worldly and philosophical matters. He preaches the virtues of being non-dogmatic, progressive, compassionate, flexible, open.
I like his weblog’s tagline: The predominant perspective in the western world is derived from a Judeo-Christian viewpoint. This has led to dualism; people have become estranged from the environment, each other and themselves. This blog is written by a Taoist. See if you can discern a difference.
I can. Below I’ve copied in one of Trey’s thought-provoking posts (February 26, 2005) about the unity that underlies diversity. Trey lives in Salem, Oregon like me. I’m looking forward to meeting him. The Church of the Churchless and The Rambling Taoist seem to look upon reality in a similar fashion.
Best religion: reality. Worst religion: faith
I always enjoy getting a message from my favorite (and, really, only) regular Christian correspondent, Steve. He sent a thoughtful response to my post, “Reason unites, faith divides.” I’ll include it in its entirety as a continuation to this post. Steve is so reasonable, I certainly don’t include him in my category of Closed-Minded Religious Faithful—they who ignore unmistakable immediate reality in favor of unproven faith in what may lie beyond what is known now.
I agree with Steve that “science is but a limited tool,” so long as it “doesn’t deal with things outside the natural, physical realm.” This was one of the central themes of my first book, “God’s Whisper, Creation’s Thunder.” Since science doesn’t know whether the essence of ultimate reality is material (physical) or non-material (spiritual), it needs to be open to any and all possibilities about what lies at the root of manifest existence.
So if “religion” means embracing really real reality, sign me up. But I don’t want any substitutes for the Real Thing. Give me the truth about the cosmos, or give me nothing. And this is what faith is, compared to truth: nothing. It’s a hope, theory, hypothesis, conjecture, wish, desire—whatever you want to call it. Whatever, it isn’t the real deal: something directly experienced.
Last Sunday I gave a talk to our local Radha Soami Satsang Beas group on this very subject. I heartily agreed with a statement by Lekh Raj Puri in his book Radha Swami Teachings: “True faith is that which is based on one’s inner transcendent spiritual realization. In that faith there is no scope for doubt; it is faith in true transcendent knowledge; it is real and reliable faith.”
But this definition of faith is far distant from what people usually mean by the term. Puri’s “faith” is precisely what I call “reality,” something directly and truly experienced. By contrast, the criticism which Sam Harris has of faith, which I echo here in the Church of the Churchless, is that shaky beliefs are mistaken for rock-solid truth. Worse, most people of faith (but not Steve) expect that other people should think and act like they do.
Steve correctly notes that “Science is not immune to folly or arrogance.” However, scientists don’t try to force their beliefs on other people, and scientists also have to offer solid evidence for the correctness of their beliefs (theories). Without such evidence, no one is expected to give those beliefs any credibility. Many religious faithful, though, expect that their unfounded beliefs about creationism, homosexuality, stem cell research, and so on will be treated seriously by society.
Sam Harris writes:
Imagine that we could revive a well-educated Christian of the 14th century. He would prove to be a total ignoramus, except on matters of faith. His beliefs about geography, astronomy, and medicine would embarrass even a child, but he would know everything there is to know about God. We could explain this in two ways: Either we perfected our religious understanding a millennium ago—while our knowledge on other fronts was still hopelessly inchoate—or religion, being the mere maintenance of dogma, is one area of discourse that does not admit of progress. The fact is, with each passing year religious dogma conserves less of the data of human experience. By this measure the entire project of religion seems perfectly backward.
By and large, I agree. Yet I encourage you to read Steve’s message, which presents religion and faith in a more favorable light. Each to his own.
Big bang stretches the mind
Reason unites, faith divides
Feeling close to God
Reality is shades of gray
Creationism is blasphemy
Gosh, there are still five hours until Sunday, and I feel the spirit moving me to write the Church of the Churchless equivalent of a “fire and brimstone” sermon. Reading a New York Times article, “An evolution in teaching: Fear of religious fundamentalists keeps the topic out of the classroom,” via the Portland Oregonian yesterday got me incensed about how ungodly a blind belief in creationism is.
Brothers and sisters, I call upon you to open your hearts and minds to God. Cast out the evil of creationism. Vow that you will never allow the wiles of devilish ignorance to turn you from the Almighty Truth. Worship the Creator who made heaven and earth, not the blasphemous creed of creationism.
Look around you and marvel. God is not obvious, but God’s works are. Until we are able to behold the Creator’s countenance directly, gazing upon the face of Creation is how we can best discern God’s qualities. Do not turn away from the immediate truths of this physical reality, for this will distance you from the greater truths of spiritual reality.
There are those who would substitute the insubstantial beliefs of man for the unchanging Truth of God. Do not trust these creationists. They elevate their subjective interpretation of a few words in a book over the objective evidence of the actual Creation. The delicious fruits of God’s majesty stand directly before them, yet they cast their eyes down to discredited notions from unreliable texts.
Evolution is the Creator’s will. Creationism is mankind’s imagination. Whenever you deny the evident facts of science and embrace a mere belief, you worship a false idol. God will not be mocked. The truth will win out. It is our sacred duty to fight on behalf of the Almighty. Take up your God-given arms of crisp reason and clear perception; do not let our children be deceived by the anti-God of creationism.
I read in the newspaper yesterday that teachers are avoiding the topic of evolution, “fearing protests from religious fundamentalists in their communities.” Fundamentalists they may be, but religious they are not. They are blasphemers, God-deniers, dangerous humanists. They seek to blind our children’s eyes to the glory of God’s creation. They want to confuse students with purely human conjecture instead of allowing them to know the truth of how the Creator willed creation to be.
My friends, we are becoming a Godless country. Americans are much more likely than people in other nations to accept the heresy of creationism. The United States is last, dead last, in a ranking of how knowledgeable citizens in twenty-one countries are about evolution. We should be #1 in knowing God’s reality. Instead, creationists are succeeding in keeping Americans ignorant of the power and glory that manifests as evolution.
From the One came many. All living beings are relatives of the same Common Ancestor. There is a direction to life: Upward. We can begin to discern the nature of the Creator through the laws of creation.
This is the truth. Stand firm and do not let the devilish forces of superstition and ignorance into people’s minds. Crush the malevolent seeds of creationism before they sprout. Face toward the light and shun darkness.
Above all, protect the children:
The paradox of prayer
I’ve been pondering the paradox of prayer recently. For as churchless and non-religious as I am, the urge to pray still arises in me when I’m faced with a difficult situation. Laurel is going to have surgery next Wednesday. I want it to go well. The thought, “Perhaps a prayer for a successful operation is in order” arises. But then I ask myself, “Why do I want to pray?”
Considering this question leads me straight into paradox. I’m assuming that whatever being I pray to—let’s call this entity “God” for lack of a better name—can hear my spoken or silent thoughts. Otherwise, what is the point in praying? But if God can hear me when I’m praying, it certainly seems that God also should be able to hear me the rest of the time.
What I picture God “hearing” includes more than the words that I speak to myself in my head. It also includes my non-verbal emotions, intentions, and desires. Indeed, everything that is projected from the psyche of the being that I call “Me.” I presume that a God capable of changing the course of worldly events is capable of knowing all about the world in which those events occur. Which includes the inner world of me and Laurel.
So the God I’m praying to must already know what I’m praying for. Indeed, God must be more intimately acquainted with what I desire, and need, (the two clearly not being identical) than I am myself. For I can deceive myself, but I don’t believe that I can deceive an omniscient Supreme Being or Consciousness. Where, then, is the need for prayer if God already knows what I desire for myself and others?
Here’s another paradox: The God to whom I am praying has allowed to occur the situation that has stimulated my prayer. For example, God has permitted Laurel’s health condition to evolve to the point where she needs a hysterectomy. If God indeed is omnipotent, and, as I’m assuming, omniscient, then God has both the power and the wisdom to make happen whatever He/She/It wills.
Thus, I find myself praying to a God who has ignored my prayers (or Laurel’s prayers) up to now. For both of us fervently desire that Laurel be pain-free and healthy. Since God hasn’t intervened to make a hysterectomy unnecessary before, why should I think that God will spring into action and help us now?
It seems reasonable to assume that either God can or can’t control what happens in the cosmos (assuming, of course, that God exists). If God can, then what has happened, is happening, and will happen is all God’s will—by intention or default—not ours. Hence, there’s no reason to pray. If God can’t, then there also is no reason to pray. Either way, I come to the conclusion that there is no reason to pray.
Yet, most of us do, in one form or another. We want to feel that the Almighty hears us and cares about us. We want to have a Friend to carry us through tough times. In an extension to this post I’ll share a poem that one of Laurel’s relatives recently sent her which captures this spirit.
Paul Tillich also wrote about the paradox of prayer in a much more eloquent and profound fashion than I’m capable of. Tillich begins his short essay with a quotation from Paul:
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words. And he who searches the hearts of men knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. ROMANS 8:26-27.
He concludes that the “sighing too deep for words” may very well be the truest form of prayer. I agree. A silent sigh directed toward the Ultimate is well spoken; everything else that goes by the name of prayer ignores the mystery and paradox of God.
Evil: made by man or God?
Helping out the Second Coming
Flee from the fear of God
Living in the Mystery
Religious questioning is natural
Like most bloggers, I love getting email. Making connections with like-minded (or unlike-minded) people from anywhere in the world is a wonderful reward for the time and effort that goes into a weblog.
Recently I got a message from another member of the spiritual group, Radha Soami Satsang Beas (RSSB), that I’ve been involved with for thirty-five years. This is how my correspondent ended his email:
I do not know whether you will feel the following questions too personal to answer, but if you do not mind , will you mind answering them?: Are you or were you ever a satsangi? What is your spiritual philosophy these days? Can you comment at all on the Sant Mat Gurus, especially Maharaj Gurinder Singh? How do you recommend one seeks the Ultimate Truth?
By “satsangi” he meant specifically an initiate of the mystical path known variously as Sant Mat, Radha Soami Satsang Beas, Science of the Soul, Surat Shabd Yoga, or Radha Soami. Satsangi is a generic word that literally means “one who associates with truth (sat).” Since many spiritual groups in India and elsewhere consider that they are on the path to knowing truth, you can be a “satsangi” of various denominations—to use a rather ill-fitting Christian term. “Satsang” is a meeting of satsangis, a service if you will.
I was asked good questions, some obviously much easier to answer than others. Though personal, I didn’t mind making a stab at answering them and have shared my response below. I realize my language will seem foreign to many people. But substitute, for example, “Pope” for “Master” and “Catholic Church” for “Radha Soami Satsang Beas” if my message seems too distant from your own experience.
My basic point is universal: after you’ve belonged to a religious or spiritual organization for more than a few years, it’s natural to be more critical of it. The more knowledgeable you become about a church, faith, philosophy, or theology, the more flaws you’ll find.
The ultimate reality we call “God” can’t be confined within any manmade system. Religions try to put bounds around boundlessness, but this is a futile exercise. Truth always finds a way to express itself. So I encourage people to trust their direct experience over abstract concepts.
When something seems wrong about the spiritual path you’re following, likely it is. If it appears that you can drop some inessential ritualistic practice, almost certainly you should. Keep what works for you; discard what doesn’t.
Here’s my mildly edited response to the questions I was asked:
Truth
“The Big If,” a kindred weblog
Hell joke’s serious side
A friend recently emailed me the “Chemistry of hell” joke that has been circulating on the Internet for years, though I couldn’t recall having seen it before. The version that I got is in the continuation to this post. The joke seems to be evolving, as it now has a nice “Oh, my God!” paragraph at the end that earlier versions didn’t have.
As humorous as this story is, it has some deep philosophy in it. Notably, the idea that since most religions state that anyone who isn’t a member of that faith is going to hell, and few (if any) people belong to every religion in the world, then everyone is going to hell.
I thought of this joke as I was reading a message from a Muslim student who attended a lecture by Sam Harris. Harris wrote “The End of Faith,” a book that I praised on my other weblog after reading only 30 pages. After finishing the book, my initial favorable impression only grew stronger.
As the student writes, Harris boldly attacks all religions as being equally non-sensical and opposed to a truly spiritual view of the world, fellow human beings, and ourselves. What made me think about hell is her observation that bodyguards were present during Harris’ talk. Would a scientist who criticized an unfounded theory need protection from those who believed in it?
Hell isn’t a real place like Death Valley in the summertime. It is the manmade creation of religions. It is as real as the irrational untested beliefs of religious fundamentalists. Yet this illusion has its all-too-real effects: people who question religious dogma need bodyguards to protect them from believers in a loving God.
To me, this absurdity is what’s truly hellish.
