Western religions holding back stem cell research
Take a stand, don’t go to church tomorrow
What’s wrong with faith?
Knowledge, belief, and feathered dinosaurs
Maui musings on the Pope’s passing
Why don’t religions evolve?
Meditating like an extra-terrestrial
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.
Reason unites, faith divides
Living in the Mystery
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.
Why bad tsunamis happen to good people
Start worrying about your religion if…
Brother of Jesus ossuary hoax
Poof! There goes one of the few pieces of evidence that Jesus actually existed, a two thousand year-old box inscribed with “James, son of Joseph, brother of Jesus.” A few days ago Israel indicted four antiquities collectors for forging artifacts, among them this ossuary that supposedly contained the bones of Jesus’ brother.
What intrigues me most about this story is what it says about Christianity. The discovery of this box a few years ago was big news. Not so much for its archaeological significance, as a “60 Minutes” piece about the ossuary that we saw recently said that these burial boxes are commonplace. Rows of them were shown stacked in some museum storage area.
Rather, interest in the “James, brother of Jesus” ossuary was extreme because it would have been the earliest evidence outside of the Bible of Jesus’ existence. Christianity is nothing without Jesus, so if the ossuary were real, this would have offered indirect proof of the reality of the religion whose core is Christ. But the inscription on the box wasn’t real. So Christianity remains resting on a shaky foundation of gospel accounts whose veracity never can be proven.
Is this any way to run a religion? The Western religions—Christianity, Islam, Judaism—are dependent on revelations. If people—Jesus, Muhammad, Moses—hadn’t revealed the nature of God to the faithful there wouldn’t be any substance to those faiths. So the historical existence of these founders is central to the theology of each religion. Imagine Christianity without Jesus, Islam without Muhammad, Judaism without Moses. Would you still have a vital religion?
On the other hand, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Taoism are pleasingly complete without the presence of any particular human revelation. Though bearing the name of the Buddha, even Buddhism can stand comfortably on its own without leaning on the person once known as Siddhartha Gautama. Buddhists say, “If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him?” Can Christians say the same about Jesus?
A religion should be able to provide universal answers to universal questions. What is the nature of God or ultimate reality? How can this highest truth be known? What is the relation of human beings, us, to existence as a whole, the cosmos? If answers to such queries can only come through the unique experience of particular people, then they aren’t real answers.
Science is much wiser in this regard. Physicists don’t worship Einstein because he revealed the theory of relativity. The laws of nature are independent of anyone’s knowledge about them. If Einstein hadn’t discovered the relativistic nature of space and time, someone else would have.
Similarly, a true spiritual science doesn’t focus on the “professor” who teaches about divine truth. This prophet, master, guru, saint, guide—whatever you want to call him or her—is separate from the truth being taught. Reality exists whether or not someone is speaking or writing about it.
Christianity, if it is true, should be independent of Jesus Christ. That statement will sound strange to most Christians, which indicates how shaky is the foundation of Christianity. If the rock-bottom truth of the cosmos is considered to depend on whether a particular person really lived and died two thousand years ago, then we haven’t gotten down to the heart of reality.
Here’s an article from the New York Times about the hoax:
Reality is the best religion
Religion should unite, not divide
Laurel, my wife, was moved to write a meaningful short essay yesterday: “Religion Should Unite, Not Divide.” Like me, she’s been disturbed by all the fundamentalist-inspired divisiveness evident of late. Well, also evident of early, for as long as there has been religion, there has been religious intolerance and inhumanity.
We both believe that the only way to be spiritual is to be non-religious. Religion is mostly about belief; spirituality is mostly about experience. A disturbingly large percentage of purportedly religious people don’t practice what they preach. They claim to aspire to unconditional love, then vote to discriminate against homosexuals. They claim to renounce unjustified killing, then proudly support the slaughter of innocent people in Iraq.
Laurel says in her piece that if the unity of God truly is the goal to which religious believers aspire, then churches and other places of worship should be an earthly reflection of this oneness: “If this were the role of religion, the only valid religious teachings would be those which teach love, acceptance, and unity with all people.”
Well said. As much as I like the meetings of the spiritual group I attend most Sunday mornings, I cringe inwardly every time I hear a speaker say, “We are so fortunate to be among the chosen few who have been blessed to return to God.” Laurel, entirely appropriately, frequently teases me about this divisive attitude.
Putting on her best Saturday Night Live “Church Lady” voice, she will say to me: “You’re saved, but Satan has doomed me to hell!” “Yes, you’re right,” I’ll reply with tongue firmly in my cheek, “But I’ll try to put in a good word for you when I see God.”
We joke about how almost every religious or spiritual group, including Radha Soami Satsang Beas (Science of the Soul), which I’ve been a longtime member of, considers that its followers, and they alone, are the “chosen people.” If you add up all the supposedly chosen people in the world—Christians, Jews, Muslims, and members of other exclusive sects—the unchosen such as Laurel are in the minority. (I recently wrote about this “all believers are above average” strangeness in “You’re religious, but are you right?”
Here is Laurel’s essay, which she has submitted to our local Salem Monthly alternative publication. As she says at the end of the piece, we’re thinking about forming a Church of the Churchless group here in Salem which would meet in physical reality instead of the blogosphere. If you’re interested in being part of such a group, send us an email.
