This is one of those posts I feel like I should be better prepared to write. I do, actually, study religion. But, okay, your attitude to something changes quite a bit when you study it for a long period of time, and there is something to do with my own religious past and also my personality that means religious experience is not something I’ve given a lot of consideration.
This Summer, a coworker and I have taken advantage of our shared Wednesday morning desk shift to talk theology. It’s been a lot of fun for me, because life post coursework is academically lonely, and sometimes I need to be reminded that I still really like what I study. My coworker and I are now both kind-of-agnostics, who are really interested in theological questions, but he had a very strict religious upbringing and attended a Pentecostal church. Though he no longer believes most of what he did as a child, much of it still sticks with him somehow, and he would never give up the ecstatic religious experiences he had in the church.
He asked me if I had ever had religious experiences like that. The answer: no. I was confirmed in a Lutheran church in the liberal Northwest, and by the time we later attended a First Assemblies church where people raise their hands during songs, I was looking around thinking, “what are these weird people doing?” I’ve never taken drugs, so I said that the closest I’d ever felt to religious experience was maybe at a few concerts. As I was talking, I felt this kind of lack, but it wasn’t such a realization. It was like finally being able to articulate something I’d been missing for a while.
What is not missing is personal engagement with theology. It’s true that I take a very academic approach, but I find a lot of meaning there, and I am personally moved by the theological questions I ask. They matter to me and they’ve changed my life. That’s why I study them. And that’s why it’s hard for me to understand people who do not intellectualize their faith at all–who don’t ask the difficult questions. None of this excludes religious experience, and I have never discounted it, but I have personally kind of ignored it. Not for me, you know.
When I say that I have never discounted religious experience, I mean that of course I kind of have. At least I have regarded it suspiciously. I think of James Baldwin and The Fire Next Time, where he was a young preacher who knew exactly what to say to move people and get their money, though it was grounded in nothing and was directly contradicted by a corrupt church. I think of checking your brain at the door and believing what is convenient. Fair considerations, but obviously a limited and biased perspective.
After my coworker and I sat there for a while, sorry that we’re both too stuck in our own heads, I started thinking about what I could do. How do I include religious experience in my life in a way that feels authentic? At certain times, I have been more dedicated to talking to God, and I wrote my MA thesis on the importance of a personal God, at least in part based on those experiences. I don’t believe in an omnipotent God who can change the immediate circumstances of my life, but it mattered to me that I was known and understood. I felt some kind of connection to the transcendent.
Later I was searching for a lost book in the library and happened to come across Eat, Pray, Love. It’s a book I’d made a lot of assumptions about without ever reading. It seemed kind of pop-spiritual, but I finally decided to stop being such a cynical punk and just read it. First of all, I love memoirs. Second, it’s really well written. Third, it is kind of pop-spiritual, by which I mean that it’s one person shopping around the different religions for what works for her, which I remain somewhat critical of, but it was refreshing to read about the experiences of someone who is open to religious experience in a way that I am not.
So I have no immediate plans to take off for India, but religious experience is something I have been thinking more about lately, and I am trying to keep my mind (and my whole person) open to it. More than that, I am trying to pursue those experiences. At the very least, I need to attend more concerts.
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Beautifully written, profound thoughts. I was raised Catholic, and as so many like myself say, I’m now a “recovering Catholic” with a two year old trying to figure out what it all means, and how I want to guide how he views the world without the structure and damage that I had as a kid; how to expose him to the idea that there is something bigger than us all and outside of ourselves, whatever it happens to look like and whatever we happen to call it. But in order for me to help guide those conversations with him, I need to have them with myself, first; something I’ve been struggling with for a very long time. I hope you find what you are looking for. Whatever it turns out to be, I hope it’s musical in any sense of the word.
It seems to me like those concerts *are* religious experiences. They may not have been intended to be, but the artist pours their heart and soul into trying to express themselves, and trying to make sense of the universe. Isn’t that religion, in a rather large nutshell?
I thoroughly enjoyed every word you wrote in this entry. As a practising Muslim, who was raised in a Muslim household, I really believe that the reason I consider myself a practising Muslim is not just because I was born into (although I can’t downplay its signifiance), for me approaching faith intellectually is what keeps me going. I’m always asking questions. I am not content with “Well, that’s what my elders told me and I never questioned them.” Many a verbal arguments I have had with a couple of family members. I dislike when people think that as a Muslim I can’t also be logical. For me is Islam is logic. They are inter-dependent. Surprisingly enough to some, learning more about other religions and how people approach their faith has made me a more spiritual person in general. I’m sure a lot of Muslim would consider how I approach Islam as “incorrect.” I can’t refute them, but the feeling and connection I have now with God is something I cannot deny and that really is what keeps me going forward.
Thanks for that insight. It also got me thinking about LSD,Jethro Tull and visions from my high school period. It also brought back something I read by William James from”The Will to Believe” “Is not all experience just the eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil,and nothing more?”
I think I can say I’m bordering on a pragmatic agnostic that is always falling over my intellect when it comes to religion, faith and belief. Theology and philosophy has since I was twelve been a reading matter that I find intriguing while I try to answer many personal questions where answers are all man made.
Groetjes
Eat, Pray, Love really is written well, isn’t it?
I am a spiritual gal, but I’m forever a cynic. Sometimes I question a little TOO much. Some see this trait as good, others see it as bad. The best thing I ever did was take a break from going to church for a good two years, then I went back on my own accord. I like what this church thing does foe me. I will never be a fanatic, or as a lot of religious people say, “someone of great faith.” ha. I will, however, always think of my involvement in this world in relation to other people and God. I like the interconnectedness…and maybe I think that interconnectedness is in fact God through us like an undeniable energy.
I have been reading your blog for well over two years and find your posts fascinating, and I’m so glad you’ve written this one because I’d love to hear (uh, read?) more about your studies. I admit I’ve always struggled with the definition of theology and religion and tend to avoid talking about it because I feel like I don’t know enough to talk about it intellectually. (I’m not even sure this makes sense, but anyway.) What do you mean when you say you’re a kind-of agnostic interested in theological questions? (Just curious—feel free to ignore me if I’m being too nosy)
I totally ROFL when I read “what are these weird people doing.” I couldn’t help myself.
I’m a firm believer in that we’re spiritual beings having a human experience. I feel especially when I’m hungry, when I need physical affection, when I need water, when I want to work but my body needs sleep. So basically my belief in spiritually spikes when I’m annoyed with my physical needs. I’m usually muttering under my breath, “Damn this body!!!”
But I can’t begin to understand theology — the academic portion to religion and spirituality. I believe that spirituality (or how I feel religion should be) is based with something higher that can’t be seen but perhaps felt.
Love is like that, I think.