Are we brave enough for faith?
Underneath the fume and fuss of religious controversy, is it possible that living one’s faith is challengingly simple? That it embodies an openness of heart and mind that humans, on their own, just cannot pull off?
Let me start my case for this with a story.
Back in the mid-1980’s I made most of my living as a freelance radio journalist, driving blue highways in a pick-up with a camper, trolling for sound and story. One early summer day while passing through the Shenandoah Valley, I spotted a bonneted woman shelling peas at a picnic table. On impulse, I pulled over and asked if I could help her with the peas and have a chat.
We sat together for a long time. That lovely woman—all the while making those pea pods fly—talked openly and generously about her life as an Old Order Mennonite. Gradually I came to understand that she didn’t live the way she did—cooking on a wood stove and driving a buggy—because of any fear she’d go to hell if she cooked on a gas stove and drove a car. Rather, it was because she took great joy in keeping close company with God and believed that having a lot of inessential stuff around diluted that closeness.
What really filled me with wonder, however, was that she didn’t seem nearly as judgmental of my lifestyle as I’d been about hers. I was as much God’s creature to her as her Old Order neighbor. Her faith, her relationship with God, was her bridge of openness to others; her lack of need to pass judgment, even on strangers in pick-ups.
I was not then a declared person of faith—or even inching toward such a declaration. But I did sense even then that this woman had something going for her that I did not. In hindsight, I suspect that something was her faith—her working partnership with God, the great Whatever.
Early in The End of Faith, New Atheist Sam Harris makes a glancing reference to our “common humanity.” Later on in his chapter on “Ethics, Moral Identity and Self-interest,” Mr. Harris writes, “For ethics to matter to us, the happiness and suffering of others must matter to us. It does matter to us, but why?” I finished the book, without finding an answer to either Mr. Harris’ question, or his take on the nature and origin of our “common humanity.” Could it be that Mr. Harris simply wished to avoid acknowledging the presence of mystery in human existence?
Ever heedless, I’ll happily rush in where Mr. Harris fails to tread and submit that once we strip our relationship with God of all trappings and get down to what’s left, we are indeed left hand-in-hand with whatever Mystery links us together; whatever makes me give a tinker’s dam about what happens to you, the Iraqis, or my frequently annoying work colleagues. God, in other words, is our common humanity (notice I do not say “the source of”, but simply “is” our common humanity.) When I deny my connection with you, I deny God.
I’d argue further that I can live in partnership with God —have a strong faith—without swaddling the great Whatever in religion. I don’t even have to acknowledge God to form a partnership with It. I simply have to be open to whatever God is; which in everyday practice, means being open to you.
Your (civil and respectful) response?
Tags: common humanity, faith, God, New Atheist, religion, religious controversy, Sam Harris
Are we brave enough for Faith? Because I believe that faith or non-faith affects the individual’s consciousness, I do not consider being brave to be relevant when it comes to Faith. However, if we equate faith with religion (I believe they are different things), then one might need to be brave to express that faith, or to discuss faith and religion with someone else. For example, one might have to be brave to discuss faith in God with the author of The God delusion, unless one is confident about the scientific reality that evolution of man does not explain all of life on earth, for which religion believes God to be responsible, while some scientists believe it must be a natural, physical reality that occurred by chance.
If one has a normally, brave, outlook on life, it would not matter whether it was religion, or faith, or something else, one would, ordinarily, be brave and confident about it. On the other hand, if one was of a doubting or non-confident nature, it would not matter what the subject was, the doubt and non-confidence would affect the individual’s attitude to the subject, or thing.
Religion is a man-made response to collectively express group faith in a Divine Being called God, Allah, Jehova, or something else. Faith is the internal conviction of a Divine source for one’s existence and all the beauty, joy, sadness, hope, despair, life and death etc,. in the world and out existence.
Faith is a personal thing, an inward thing. Being brave in your faith is ultimately what happens in the privacy of your own spirit. Bravery may not be a prerequisite of faith but developing a bit of intestinal fortitude seems a necessary spiritual discipline.
The meaning of the word Israel is something like “one who wrestles with God”. Islam, as I understand it, talks about jihad being spiritual struggle. The first noble truth of Buddhism says that all life is suffering. Christianity posits a constant struggle with sin. More often than not one of the first things out of an angel’s mouth in Bible stories is “fear not!” Seems like the ancients are telling us that faith isn’t for wussies.
I don’t mean that being brave in faith is putting on a show for the outside world. Living out your convictions in spite of or even in defiance of the “secular” world or purposefully in the midst of “infidels” can be a trap. Putting up a brave front can be a way of turning your back on spiritual things and indulging the ego.
Most of us homo sapiens who’ve lived a little life have figured out we have (sometimes severe) limits – we’re finite. God – at least the idea of God – represents the unlimited. “The Great Whatever” is a nice rendering of this. Some of us, for better or worse, sense that the Infinite is somehow inviting us beyond our limits, to live life as something more.
This can be scary.
I don’t think we can – nor do we – do it on our own. The invitation is from beyond and so is the bravery to answer. Our traditions provide legends of heroes: Abraham leaves his home; Siddhartha renounces his birthright; God incarnate as Christ asks us to take up our cross and follow. As esoteric or culturally opaque as these old stories can seem to us now, the theme remains constant. It is a part of being human that some of us feel the tug to move deeper or higher into – well – being human.
Some, of course, think this is foolishness. They insist that nothing’s there. The spiritual pull we feel is, they say, just chemicals bubbling in our solitary bags of skin. Maybe they’re right.
It is my faith that there is a There there. Something greater than me is asking me to expand towards It. I don’t feel very brave trying to answer. But I feel great strength in being asked.
I don’t believe that one needs to be brave to have faith. I believe there is a God (great whatever), otherwise nothing would exist. I don’t believe in the God I was taught about in religion class when I was in grade school. There are many things that we can’t comprehend because our brains are unable to do so. We can comprehend only what we experience. Mathematics provides answers to many things that we cannot comprehend (extra dimensions, etc). But we still are unable to understand the answers that mathematics provides. Are we made in the likeness of God, as I was previously taught? I seriously doubt it. Does God exist in 11 dimensions as some kind of spirit that we are unable to comprehend? Maybe. Instead of needing to be brave in order to have faith, I think it just takes common sense.
Very interesting point of view. Pretty much where I find myself today. I am pretty much over the pomp and ceremony of my church (Episcopal) and the feeling that if I don’t approach God in a certain way (our Book of Common Prayer) – he won’t hear me. I need a cleaner line if my faith is to sustain itself. However, I am aware that I need the connection of other people. It is a walk that I am profoundly grateful that I am not the only one on the trail.
Agree 100%. Open to all and connected to all. I’m a religious humanist and have finally gotten comfortable with the “god” term. It’s not for me to judge if there is or is not a god, but I do believe I have that choice to make. I do not know if I am brave or not. But my journey is to search for meaning, hope, love and justice FOR EVERYONE, regardless what others choose to believe.
Thank “God” for this openness. Your conclusion that all you have to do is be open to me is great. But it leaves out the real challenge in your challenging simplicity…. are we willing to give our very lives — literally, not figuratively. There is where the bottom line fear lies. We might have to stand up and be counted, and therefore, be crucified. And, like Jesus’s prediction, before the cock crows, who among us will not try to save our own necks…
Is there anything after we die that would make it worthwhile to give our lives away?
o/o Carol