No comment required
Okay, but I’ll make one anyway. The other day, on the phone with my Dad, we had a very brief (like barely touching on it) conversation about a political article I sent him — one that I told him helped me to perhaps have a slightly better understanding of the culturally conservative mindset. He admitted that he hadn’t read the article yet because if I read something, then I’ll really have to think about it and come to conclusions about it. At a later point in the conversation, this same logic applied to religion, and how he was completely unwilling to even speculate about whether there’s a God — because where could those kinds of thoughts lead???
Oh, the horrors. But then, I know this quite well. I remember clearly the first day after I first questioned whether God existed. I felt somehow let down and lonely — like I just found out a friend had died. I quickly tried to shove that Pandora’s box closed again, but it had been opened, and eventually, I arrived to where I am now. Non-religious whatsoever. I still have a spiritual component to my life, but it has nothing to do with the Christianity with which I grew up.
So, I guess the point is this: his fear is somewhat justified. But is it worthwhile to ignore what might be real, just because you might not like the answers?
Posted by Allison in it is what it is, losing my religion, finding my senses |
March 2nd, 2007 at 3:13 pm
a) Your T-Tapp photos are amazing, and i can see a huge difference already.
b) Questioning is really scary. I remember the same feeling of the pit dropping out just contemplating the idea that God might not exist. But I kept going in my exploration, and ultimately decided that there was too much evidence in my life of God to think there wasn’t one. I feel bad for people who are too afraid to contemplate the possibilities, and think those of us who have, no matter where we ended up with it, are probably more secure in our beliefs and don’t really connect so much with the “pretending” idea.
Being afraid to question seems to me like being afraid to go to the doctor because you might get bad news. The truth doesn’t change just because you don’t want to hear it.
March 2nd, 2007 at 5:28 pm
As a kid I was taught that questioning and seeking was sort of the “job” of finding God. (That being my Quakerism). There was a loose assumption of God, but we were expected to hear God on our own, and there was no guarantee that that would be tied to anything specific. No creed or dogma, in other words. So I’ve also spent a fair amount of time questioning whether God might not exist… and I imagine to a conservative Christian I don’t believe in God.
But I’m like Moxie; there’s sufficient evidence in my life to believe in the sort of universe/spirituality that I believe in. Which may not work for everyone, and I don’t need it to. But I wouldn’t throw belief and faith out, any more than any of my other preferences, tastes, philosophies, and feelings. You know? Faith, to me, isn’t about pretending really hard: it’s about my own experiences and feelings and how I wear them.
The being-afraid-to-questioners, I don’t really understand. I don’t need religion. Well, okay, I’ve not really ever “had” religion, in that sense… I don’t understand the need for it. But I do have faith. And because it’s faith, it could be wrong or misunderstood or misheard, so why not kick the tires? Go off road? Slam it around a bit? Wallpaper with it? Check it for elasticity? Turn it on its head?
What good is breakable faith? What good is unexplorable philosophy? How is that a comfort or worth anything?
My favorite ice cream is now cashew caramel, which I just discovered. Previous, my favorite ice cream was chocolate. Without trying a new flavour, I wouldn’t have found something I really enjoy; so my faith also changes and deepens. However, I can’t reject my belief that I prefer cashew caramel to vanilla, even if - objectively - Vanilla is scientifically the “most favored” flavour.
I’m not Christian, but if I were, I imagine I’d be very much the same with Christ. I’d get all up in his face.