Consensus does not mean structure.
I ask that you keep this in mind for a while yet. See, in her post
What is Structured
Religion?, my
friend Aileen cites a dictionary entry for religion that refer to it
as a set of beliefs a number of people agree upon. That's all well
and good, but does that automatically mean that they're agreeing to
upholding a particular structure?
What if people agree that chaos is all that there is, and that
disorder and order are but
illusions?
Do their agreement to a belief in a lack of structure actually
constitute structure?
And thus have crossed over to things that are meta.
See, there's nothing innately structured about a religion--or, rather,
if there is, then you can't get two people to agree on what that
structure looks like. You may have each other's back on the general
features, but when you get down to the details, then all bets are off.
See history for precedents.
As I read her post, it occurs to me that the structure she has built is
shaky; not the foundation, mind you, which I can get behind with. But
the quivering mass standing on said foundation believes its head to be
its feet.
One of the central ideas in Aileen's post is the idea that one's faith
spirals from a Church down to one's self. She may not consciously
believe so, but that's how her post was written--or, at least, that's
certainly how it come across to me.
Now, friends and regular visitors know that I'm not a big fan of
religion. Organized religion scares me. It has the power to control a
person's brain, to dictate a person's life, to override a person's
actual beliefs.
Again, see history for precents. Specifically, checkout the Crusades, the Jihad (as propagated by militant Muslims), and
read about how Adolf Hitler possibly waged war on the Jews, at least
in part, for perceived crimes against the son of a Jewish carpenter.
As I said, I'm not a big fan of religion. But I ain't got no truck with
faith. With spiritualism.
This may come as a surprise to some, but I'm actually a pretty big fan
of the Jewish carpenter's son. In fact, I take pride in the idea that
I'm more of a Christian than other people (well, except for the, you
know, hubris--but who isn't sinfully proud these days?). It may not
seem so, especially to those with whom I often talk with, but I'm pretty
big on faith and spiritualism.
I suppose that's kind of stupid, coming from an unabashed atheist.
The smarter ones will, of course, figure out immediately what I mean
when I say I consider myself more of a Christian that others who profess
to such an affiliation more often and more openly. I'm Christian in the
sense that Mohandas Gandhi was:
I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are
so unlike your Christ.
I didn't start this way, of course. Although I still had an
admittedly-un-atheist propensity for following the spirit of Jesus'
"laws", I was (I suppose understandably) in active denial over what I
was doing.
It was only after I had realized that I can divorce faith and
spirituality from religion that I could marry my appreciation of the
teachings of religious leaders with my inability to believe in deities.
Such a view, I suppose, would be hard to swallow for most people. I
never really got it until after I started getting into Buddhism.
Although, to be honest, I'd have to admit that I probably still haven't
really got it.
The point is, faith and spiritualism are only intertwined with religion
if one were approach the issue from the premise that a Church bestows
such on a person, as Aileen does in her post:
The Church has taught me how to have a personal relationship with my
Savior. I have learned how to express my faith through its teachings
and I will forever be grateful for that.
Personally, I always thought that religion should be built from the
ground-up, with the faith of its individual members lending a Church the
credibility and the power. Although, I suppose, at some point, it can't
be helped that a Church grows enough that it has power by itself.
Which, as I mentioned earlier, scares the crap out of me.
Towards the end of her post, Aileen calls out those she perceives to be
hypocritical (and, in my opinion, rightly so)--those who say they're
sick of religion one second, then calling out to a deity the next time
they're in trouble.
This, I can get behind of. In fact, I'll lead the ghoddamned charge, if
I could.
However--and this is mostly the point of this whole post--I believe
that, for the most part, Aileen is directing her righteous anger at the
wrong target. For later on, she states:
They've been too quick to say they don't believe in structured
religion and yet you'd see them making the sign of the cross.
Here's an exercise: Change the word "structured" into "organized."
Better? Because that's what I think the prostitute (read Aileen's post
for context) actually meant. Organized religion. She was not attacking
faith, nor professing disbelief for all deities. She was just saying
she didn't like all the hullaballoo surrounding most organized religion.
Is that really bad?
So what if she still performs the rituals she grew up with? Again, her
problem isn't with her faith (which I believe a personal thing that
ought to be untouchable by anyone), but with all the pomp and
circumstance. Are we to deny her the right to choose and practice her
faith merely due to a misunderstanding? Over a poorly chosen word? One
that anybody could've done in their stead?
I didn't think so.
So, yeah, let's poke fun at the expense of the hypocrites, and the blind
jerks leading the blind fools, the smart ones who will never, ever get
it because they've been drowning in prejudice from childhood.
But let's cut the prostitutes with limited vocabularies a break.
Part of having a blog is partaking in the back-and-forth of discussion
between friends. For most discussions, the comments area suffice.
However, in this case, there was more that I wanted to say, and, no
matter how much of an asshole you may think I am, I will not
commandeer a friend's comments area in that way.
(Original post)
