Tag Archives: religion

Just imagine

Julian Lennon has done a cover of his father’s song to raise money for Ukrainians who have been devastated by war.

These lyrics have always spoken to me:

Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today… Aha-ah…Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace… You…You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

~ John Lennon

Man’s inhumanity to man is shocking. The violence that happens in the name of country and/or God has been continuous for all of recorded history.

One people, no counties, no God to worship. I can’t help but think the world would be a better place. It would probably be more spiritual rather than less, with humans understanding that we are all connected… all one race, the human race… and all part of a greater ecosystem that we must work together to nurture.

Just imagine.

Door to door religion

When it comes to organized religion, I struggle with the concepts of an afterlife. I have yet to hear a description that makes me think, “That’s how I want to spend an eternity.”

I have a great way to quickly end the conversation when a Jehovah Witness knocks at my door. My usual response to them is, “I’m comfortable with my relationship to God.” If they say anything else to me I repeat that statement. Only once did the conversation continue and in that case I simply asked, “Are you comfortable with your relationship with God?” And with a ‘Yes’ response, I said “Me too.”

Works every time. Conversation over. They leave happy, I’m happy they left.

The summer before the pandemic I had a Jehovah Witness couple come to my door. I did something dangerous, I played along. This is dangerous because once you engage in a conversation, you are likely to get callbacks. More visits because you show promise. But when I was done, I was very doubtful of another visit.

I talked about millions of years of dinosaurs, and how insignificant human life has been in geological time… and how much less significance the earth has in the universe. I spoke of the injustice of a God who didn’t share his views equitably around the world, allowing false Gods to reign in different parts of the world, condemning people who never heard of Him to hell.

And then they brought up the afterlife. At this point I clarified, “Is it correct that you believe heaven will be here on earth?” And after their response was ‘Yes’ I said, “And you’ll all be naked.”

They looked at each other puzzled, and I continued with this line of thinking: When the rapture happens, and heaven happens on earth, you’ll have the clothing you own and nothing else. There will not be anyone in sweatshops making T-shirts and running shoes. Unless God is in the manufacturing business, clothes will wear out, unless you think heaven is some sort of magical cartoon land, and so eventually you’ll all be naked. Don’t worry, there won’t be any jealousy or vanity, it is heaven after all, but you will be naked for eternity.

The conversation ended soon after. They were pleasant and ended with “God bless you.” My response to this was “By all means, may God bless you, I’m fairly certain after our conversation, your God won’t be blessing me.” A meek smile was the only response.

I don’t know what got over me that day, but I’ll go back to my usual response from now on. Still it was fun to mess with their minds a little. Some might think it mean, but I didn’t go knocking on their door trying to indoctrinate them with my views, they came to my door to do so to me.

I guess I can’t be saved.

—-

Related: Coffee after class

The view from the summit

One of my favourite sayings, that I learned from a former Hare Krishna devotee is, “There are many paths to the top of a mountain, but the view from the summit is the same.” I was at a professional development session about restorative practices last week and I shared this quote in a circle.

This little saying reminds me of three things. First, good people are good people. If they are on a good and kind path, it doesn’t matter what their faith, background, or ideology is. If they are on a path to being the best they can be, if they are doing their part to make this a better world for themselves, their friends, and their community, well then they are on a good path. It doesn’t have to be the same path as me.

The second interpretation of this quote is that sometimes it’s good to take the 2,000 foot view of things, to not get lost on your own path, and not see that others’ paths are going in the same direction. A good example of this is when dealing with upset parents. It’s easy to get lost in the issues, but if you pause and look at the issue from above, suddenly you can see clearly… you both have the best interest of their child in mind… you both want the same thing. With this perspective, it’s easier to see the forest through the trees. It’s easier to not focus on your own path, but a mutual path. The view from the summit is not hindered by the path.

When it comes to faith and religion, I think of this quote as meaning there are many ways to seek God, or to be spiritual. The biggest issue I have with religions is their fervour that there is only one path to God. That seems ridiculous to me for 2 reasons. First, how many 2,000+ year old religions are now dead? How many people lived before modern faiths even existed? Surely God cared about some of those people that lived before the ‘one true religion’ even existed. Surely He/She cares for people today who are good and righteous, but have never been exposed to that one religion. And secondly, if a benevolent God were truly that concerned about a specific unyielding faith, then He/She would have given us scriptures that were more universally interpreted and less framed in the era and geography they came from. Just think about the animals mentioned in religious texts, and whether they should be eaten, not eaten, or sacrificed… these animals had relevance not to a wise God, but to the people at the time that these people wrote the scriptures. No scripture is written well enough to be the words of God, they are all so obviously written by people.

“There are many paths to the top of a mountain, but the view from the summit is the same.”

A Buddhist, a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Mormon, a Jew, an Atheist… each one of these can be good people on a path to a kinder world, and each one of these can be selfish jerks that are of a belief that somehow their faith or ideology makes them righteous and heaven bound or makes them better than others. What if they just saw each other on the same mountain, and all heading to the same summit?

I like the view from the top of that summit!

Beliefs, facts, and free will

I’m not sure that I’m going to do this topic justice in a short daily-ink, so I’m just going to mind dump and see where this takes me.

I’ve written about the Bell Curve of Free Will, where I stated,

If we have free will then I believe that how much choice we have will be influenced considerably by our circumstance and by how virtuous we are.

I won’t try to explain this too much further here, visit them post if this idea interests you. The image I added tried to do too much with a single chart, but my main points were that 1. You have more choice when you have more wealth (better circumstances); and, 2. You have less free will when you are more virtuous. Example: A very virtuous person can’t choose to take advantage of someone for profit the way a less virtuous person can, but the less virtuous person can make the choice to do so, or to not do so, or to maybe be 1/2 ‘generous’ and take advantage for less profit than possible, because they consider themselves as being nice.

But where do beliefs fit in? And what does this have to do with facts?

I think we might have less free will than I originally thought because our belief system alters our view of what truth is. When you believe that your religion is the only path to your salvation, then the information that led you to this belief are going to seem like facts… and these facts limit your choices and free will. If you follow Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, or Judaism, you have beliefs about the world we live in that are different from the other faiths. Based on your interpretation, there are things you can and can’t do, such as dietary restrictions. In many cases, your choice of partner are limited, by faith, or even by gender.

But I’m just using religion as an example. We have many beliefs that affect our perception of facts, and that affect the choices we make. Conspiracy theories work like a religion. They paint the picture of a world that limits our choices and our ability to see alternative views. If you wholeheartedly believe the world is flat, you need to build a whole world model around how international flights arrive on time, and you have to construct entire belief systems around space flight and images of round stars and planets, and how gravity works. And when you do this, you literally create ‘facts’.

Other constructs of our beliefs alter the way we look at at facts, and how much free will we have to make choices. Because if we construct a world where we also construct the facts we choose to pay attention to, these created facts then limit the choices we can make.

If we don’t share the same beliefs then we don’t share the same truths. We alter facts to fit our beliefs.

How does someone on the political left vs the political right define the following:

  • Communism
  • Socialism
  • Fascism
  • Democracy
  • Social welfare
  • Liberty
  • Freedom
  • Religion’s place in politics

The definitions of these terms are very different on the political spectrum. Beliefs alter facts. Interpretations of these so-called facts limit our choices, our free will.

We don’t perceive the world as it is. Our beliefs define our world, define the things we are willing to accept as facts, and determine the choices we believe we have to make. Beliefs alter what we perceive as facts and limit our ability to make free choices.

The stories we believe

We don’t perceive reality. We quite literally make it up. Our beliefs are fiction. It’s not an easy thing to accept. But this, unlike our beliefs, is true.

Religion, politics, relationships, even theories are all based on the knowledge that we’ve either had passed down to us or that we consumed. Relying on other people’s beliefs.

Then we make judgements and then we stand by them. Some are good, some are bad, all are judgements… not reality.

Think of the stories that have been passed down to us. From origin stories to cavemen to great floods. How many people believe that early humans lived at the same time as Jurassic dinosaurs? That’s just one story many people have wrong.

There are so many more. We should be more humble, and less susceptible to stories that don’t move us towards being more loving, caring, and kind people. We should worry less about tribal stories that keep us apart.

Why can’t the stories we choose to believe help us make the world we live in a better place to live? But then again, that’s the reason for religious wars… the strongly held belief in a better world. It’s an endless loop.

We need better, more believable stories, the current ones aren’t working.

There are many ways

I love this Chinese proverb:

There are many ways to the top of a mountain, but the view from the summit is the same.

It reminds me that we are all on our own journey; that we don’t have to follow a single path. It reminds me that some people have to work harder than others, and some have to face hardships that others don’t. But we are all seeking happiness or success.

It makes me think about all the different religions, and how they have similar goals. And it makes me realize that one’s faith is not as important as the path they take to their belief’s version of heaven. I have met faithful people in different religions who walk a virtuous path, and I have similarly met people of different religious beliefs who are less virtuous, less caring, generous, or kind… yet they all claim to be heading towards a similar metaphorical summit.

We all walk our own path. Sometimes we share that path with others. Sometimes we walk alone. Sometimes people are walking together and feel alone. Sometimes when we are alone we still feel like we are not alone, I think this can be achieved by self-confidence or by faith. But faith in what? Faith in a belief system that says, “Only through this faith can you reach the summit”?

There are many faiths that set people on virtuous paths. There are many secular people who choose to be virtuous without faith or organized religion. If each of these different people live a good life, are they not heading to the same or similar summits? Do they not deserve the same view?

How many paths are the ‘right’ path? Can there only be one? I doubt it. People who follow the same path don’t all make it to the summit, but community, and family, and friends can certainly make the journey easier. Yet virtue isn’t just about caring for those like you, with similar beliefs and attitudes. Virtue doesn’t spring from being exclusionary. And virtue doesn’t require faith.

There are many ways to the top of a mountain, but the view from the summit is the same.

I wish tolerance and acceptance of others had a greater role in religion. I wish different faiths could see the value in learning about each other’s path, and that people of different faiths learned to take their journeys alongside each other. This seems to happen more often in spite of faith rather than because of it. Or it happens in response to tragedy, but not in everyday life. Yet everyday life is the journey, is the path. Are we not better off believing that we are all on the same mountain, heading to the same summit? Can we not all share the same view when we get there?

From faith or with faith?

This isn’t meant to be a critique of any specific religion, and it’s not a criticism of having faith in your beliefs. It’s a simple question: What should religions really teach us?

All religions have benevolent followers who act out of kindness and love. Support for family and community is a driving force for them.

All religions have unkind and unlikeable followers who act out of selfishness and self-indulgence. A lack of care for others well-being is inherently in their goals and aspirations.

Many people have benefited from a church or religious community supporting them. A sense of greater belonging strengthening their identity with like-minded people.

Many people have suffered in religious wars, crusades, and attacks from foreign people with foreign beliefs. A sense of alienation, a world of slavery, forced conversion, or death follows the invasion.

Do we need religion to act kind and benevolent? Could we be loving, caring and community-minded without a holy scripture? Could we be good people without faith in an organized religion, without a scripture to point the way?

Does goodness come from following a faith, or does a faith promote the goodness already inherent within us?

We can coexist with people of different faiths being loving and kind to one another. We can see the good in others who approach their faith with benevolence, even if their faith is not the same as ours. And if a faith prevents this, is that a benevolent God to follow? Can we seek peace beyond our faith, with those from outside our faith?

Do we learn to be good from our faith, or do we need to better understand how to be good to everyone beyond those that share our beliefs, as well as those that do? For it seems to me that in this day and age, if one’s faith does not promote openness and love beyond that faith, the faithful need to question how much good that faith brings them?

A global community

One love, one heart 
Let’s get together and feel all right. ~ Bob Marley

I used to think that we would reach a time in my lifetime where we could all be seen first and foremost as citizens of the world. That people would eventually be able to get a global passport and travel with a universal identity as global citizens. It was naive, but I thought it would happen.

With the rise of social media, I thought we were getting closer. I saw how social media extended the reach of individuals to find others of similar minds and interests. The internet extended our reach and our ability to understand others, whether they thought like us or not.

But while understanding our differences can help us see that we really are more alike than we think, differences in core values separate us further. Religions divide us more than anything else. That’s ironic and sad. Faith in a higher being sectionalizes humanity into narrow groupings that undermine our ability to focus on the well-being of our global community.

What would it take to go beyond the divisiveness of religious dogmatism?

What would help us see that as a species we have more to gain from being cooperative rather than confrontational?

What could bring us all together as a global community of citizens that care for our species and our world?

I fear that people will try with tyranny before they try with love.

Know your audience

Social media is filled with people who are ‘preaching to the converted’. There is nowhere that this is more evident than in politics and religion. I’m amazed at the blindness with which people spew their ideology.

Basically, what I (mostly) see are two ignorant camps:

1. I don’t care what you think.

2. You don’t think like me, so you are an idiot.

Neither of these deliver a message that comes remotely close to convincing anyone of anything. Neither of these pander to an audience beyond those that already agree with the perspective being shared. Neither of these promote thought or dialogue.

Sure it might feel good. Yes, it’s nice to be in the company of others that completely agree with you. But social media shouldn’t just be about screaming into an echo chamber, and there should be opportunities for dialogue that goes beyond winning a point against a foe whom doesn’t even acknowledge your point.

I keep coming back to the realization that ideas lie on a spectrum, and the reason I keep coming back to this is because most of us don’t sit on the extremes, even if that’s where we argue our points from. We don’t really wish ill of those that oppose our view, we don’t really believe that our neighbours are unneighbourly because they view things differently than us, politically, religiously, or ideologically. Yet that’s what it looks like on social media.

Are you trying to share your view only with people that already agree with you? Or are you trying to share your view with others who think differently? If your answer is the latter, then think about your audience, and share a message they can actually hear.

Coffee after class

It was second semester of my first year at the University of Guelph. I had a night class on Wednesday’s from 6-9pm. Now, decades later, I have no idea what the class was about, yet taking that class had a profound impact on my thinking.

Another student taking the class with me was Brian, an older, round-faced, bearded gentleman in his mid 30’s whom I knew from a class the previous semester. We sat near each other in the first class and afterwards he asked me, and one other student that I didn’t know, James, if we wanted to go for a coffee. James, was a moustache-less but goateed, hip-looking young man who was probably no more than a year older than me, but he made me look young next to him. He said he was meeting his girlfriend, and could she join us?

Upon leaving the the class, James’ girlfriend, Lara, approached us and he introduced us. Lara was just as hip looking as James. She had short-cropped hair with coloured highlights, and a nose ring. Or maybe it was James that had the nose ring, my memory is a little hazy, this was 32 years ago. (I’m not even 100% sure I have the names right, but these will do,)

And so it began, 10 weeks of the four of us meeting for coffee, creating some unforgettable memories after sitting through a class that was completely forgettable. While we talked about life, the universe, and everything, the conversation always seemed to gravitate to religion.

To give a little personal background, I grew up in a Jewish family, but we were not religious and my dad’s views were both secular and esoteric. What little faith I had was rocked by Charlton Heston in the Ten Commandments. I saw this movie shortly after moving to Canada, not yet a teenager.

The part of the movie that most impacted me was the scene that sets the stage for Passover, the only Jewish celebration we did with our grandparents.

To borrow from Wikipedia on Passover:

In the Book of Exodus, God helped the Israelites escape from slavery in ancient Egypt by inflicting ten plagues upon the Egyptians before the Pharaoh would release the Israelite slaves. The last of the plagues was the death of the Egyptian first-born. The Israelites were instructed to mark the doorposts of their homes with the blood of a slaughtered spring lamb. Upon seeing this, the spirit of the Lord knew to pass over the first-born in these homes, hence the English name of the holiday.

In the movie, a fog passes through the city bringing the plague that would kill the first born of the Egyptians and non-believers. You could hear the screams of Egyptian parents as their oldest children died.

Even at this young age, I remember thinking of this from the perspective of an Egyptian parent; A parent that did not wrong anyone, a parent who led a good life, in a loving family. I remember thinking, “What kind of cruel God would do this?” I could understand a God punishing the slave owners, but this was too much. It was vindictive, it was indiscriminate, and it was cruel. I thought, “I can not believe in such a vengeful God”.

The other three that met for coffee after class came from completely different religious standpoints. James was atheist. He had a Christian background, but his stance on religion was as indiscriminately hatefully as the Passover plague was to the Egyptians. Lara was Catholic, and while not fully devout, she held Christian values and principles. Her resolve in believing in God was as strong as her boyfriend’s atheism. Brian was… different.

Like the other three of us, this was Brian’s first year at university, despite being close to double our age. He joined the conversation not just with almost a lifetime’s more of life experience, but with life experiences that were rather unique. He was well travelled, articulate, and wise, but it was his unique religious background that made him quite an anomaly. Brian has been a “Hare Krishna devotee for 14 and a half years”. Looking back, it seems odd that he described his time with them that way. Why mention the 1/2 year?

Early on he was defensive about his time with this group. “People say that the Hare Krishnas drug their devotees… well I was head chef of our group for 9 years and I can tell you that not only are there no drugs, but they ate extremely healthy meals all the time.” As the weeks passed, he began to realize that we were just curious and not being judgemental when asking about his experiences in this faith. He shared a lot about them, but would never divulge what it was that made him leave.

Our conversations would routinely last until the coffee shop closed at 11. Sometimes we would stand outside for another 15-20 minutes conversing before we found a good place to stop. I remember a night where ‘James the Atheist’ became ‘James the Agnostic’. A week later, he was atheist again. I remember a ‘ladder and pyramid’ analogy for religions that Brian shared, that still influences my thoughts on religion today.

I remember having my thoughts and perspectives completely flipped, and also watching as my words would do the same to others. We used the Socratic method of asking questions to stimulate both argument and agreement. We got loud, but never angry. We learned from each other and honed our abilities to argue for the sake of good discourse.

I don’t remember seeing James or Lara after that. Brian didn’t come back to Guelph the next year. He went to India and was doing some charity work. I know this because he wrote a letter to update me. I have that letter in a box somewhere in my garage. I don’t remember any of the contents of the letter now, but I kept it because it was insightful, just like our conversations were.

If it was an era of smartphones and Facebook, I’m sure I would have kept in touch with Brian. He brought the four of us together. We taught each other. We challenged each other. We had one of the best ‘classes’ that I had at university. Four friends in a coffee shop.