If I'm Not Religious, How Come I Have All This Religious Guilt?
Last night, my next door neighbor knocked on my door and asked if I could come over and reset the timer on her lights. One of her grandkids had knocked the plug out of the outlet, and it was after sundown.
This happens every so often on a Friday night. It's of course no problem for me. Except that I feel so...impious. My head feels conspicuously bare. The kids all look at me in a mix of awe and suspicion: I am the guy who breaks the rules. I always feel as though I am intruding somehow. As though I am being judged.
I'm sure they're not really judging me, so I've been trying to think through why I feel this way. Religion and religious people don't make me uncomfortable. I wasn't raised in a religious household, so whatever I don't believe is just habit not some kind of ideology (I'm looking at you, Chris Hitchens).
I know this sounds like a cliche, but some of my best friends are religious. And they don't make me uncomfortable.
I have friends who are outside of the religious mainstream--Orthodox, Calvinist, etc. We talk about religion and I don't feel uncomfortable. These are lively and invigorating conversations.
So what is it that makes me feel so guilty when I go next door to flip switches?
I think it's a kind of longing, an awareness that while I am free to use electricity on shabbat, this freedom comes at a price. It's not faith that's at stake so much as connection. When I talk to my friends about the Election of souls or the function of snoods, it's a matter of belief. But when I see the family sitting down for their sabbath dinner, each assenting to the prohibition against turning electricity on or off, it's not just about belief. It's about a community. It's about faith uniting people, about traditions followed consciously and thoughtfully. It's rather beautiful.
Or maybe they really are just judging me.
This happens every so often on a Friday night. It's of course no problem for me. Except that I feel so...impious. My head feels conspicuously bare. The kids all look at me in a mix of awe and suspicion: I am the guy who breaks the rules. I always feel as though I am intruding somehow. As though I am being judged.
I'm sure they're not really judging me, so I've been trying to think through why I feel this way. Religion and religious people don't make me uncomfortable. I wasn't raised in a religious household, so whatever I don't believe is just habit not some kind of ideology (I'm looking at you, Chris Hitchens).
I know this sounds like a cliche, but some of my best friends are religious. And they don't make me uncomfortable.
I have friends who are outside of the religious mainstream--Orthodox, Calvinist, etc. We talk about religion and I don't feel uncomfortable. These are lively and invigorating conversations.
So what is it that makes me feel so guilty when I go next door to flip switches?
I think it's a kind of longing, an awareness that while I am free to use electricity on shabbat, this freedom comes at a price. It's not faith that's at stake so much as connection. When I talk to my friends about the Election of souls or the function of snoods, it's a matter of belief. But when I see the family sitting down for their sabbath dinner, each assenting to the prohibition against turning electricity on or off, it's not just about belief. It's about a community. It's about faith uniting people, about traditions followed consciously and thoughtfully. It's rather beautiful.
Or maybe they really are just judging me.
posted by Feemus at
7:47 AM
7 Comments:
Being of the opinion that religion exists for the benefit of human beings, rather than God, I can empathize with what you describe. As long as religion functions to make people's lives better, not worse, I think it's a lovely thing.
By
jjdebenedictis, at 9:22 AM
Well, that's it for me -- finding community and faith, exactly as you say, Feemus. Only religion doesn't work for me either, at least not yet it hasn't. There's so much I love about Catholicism, but I just can't get with religion since part of the deal with any religion always seems to be that attitude of "we're right and everyone else is wrong." God! Why do religious people always have to DO that!! There is something about shared beliefs, though, that sure works for me (although I don't find shared political beliefs to be as satisfying, in the long run, as shared spiritual beliefs...but really, that's just me).
I'll tell you what I really like about being a member of AA: that I discovered I am truly needful of people I never would have known or wanted to know before I got into trouble I couldn't get myself out of. Alcoholism is so democratic! The range of personalities -- some I can't even stand -- is huge, and I need them all. THAT is cool to me, that is the great benefit of belonging to a spiritual community for me: I get a shot at some discovering some humility and I get reminded of the hugeness of our connection -- that personalities, politics, all that crap is so not where the connection really is.
And so on...
By
Anonymous, at 12:54 PM
Maybe I should go to AA....
I somethings wish you would write this blog, Claud--you have a knack for saying what I mean. "Discovering humility"--that's just it. A shared sense of both humility and connection. There's a real strength in that.
I think that's why political connections don't fill this need. They are not about humility (and wouldn't work if they were).
I also find that I can agree with someone politically and not have the same values or worldview. Whereas, paradoxically, I can share those things with someone whose political beliefs I disagree with. It's just that we see a different way to get from A to B.
By
Feemus, at 3:22 PM
On a sort of side note, I'm reading a Comic called Fallen Angel, about...well, take a guess. But she has a son who asks her about the nature of God and she tells him that God isn't so much merciful and kind as he is really really annoyed with humanity. He created us and sort of started us off but has been waiting for us to grow up and get on with our lives. We've become the 30 year olds who refuse to move out of the house or get a job and its getting really really old.
I dont know why I thought of that when I read your blog post, but there it is.
Calvinists? Isn't that the 'You're already damned or not damned, not matter what you did' sect? or am I confused? I'm sure there are nuances there I'm missing.
My father was/is strict atheist and he views my gathering of faith through experience as...cute...I think. But he's never made me or my family feel embarrassed. But then again, he's my father...he has naked baby pictures of me for his embarrassment ammo.
In some ways I really thing religion keeps people from connecting as much as they could and should. But the desire for community can be a pretty damn strong one.
Benticore
Out
By
Benticore, at 7:25 AM
Yep--that's it. Predestination. Some souls are elect and some are reprobate and there isn't a thing we can do about it. It seems almost impossibly grim to me, but he likes it.
It annoys me when atheists (and I'm of course not saying that your dad is like this) condescend to religious people but then get all twitchy and hypersensitive when they feel judged or marginalized. Oh boo hoo.
You're of course right that religion does keep people from connecting sometimes. But there's something about the shared discipline, the shared ritual that really appeals to me.
By
Feemus, at 2:37 PM
Oh, I know what you mean.
My father isn't really condescending, though, so there is that. It's just out of his ability to understand how people believe in things they cannot physically and/or scientifically quantify.
The shared ritual/shared experience think is a powerful force in human nature that you can see anywhere, not just religion. Football camp in highscool, pledging to a fraternity, and shared, intense experience with group of people will tend to forge bonds that are surprisingly strong, sometimes transcending the experience itself.
Sometimes I think of the rituals and systems of Catholicism and I almost ALMOST get envious. But then I remember they think its a sin to masturbate and I'm all Forget That mess...
Benticore
Out
By
Benticore, at 5:27 PM
well, there's that.
It's all well and good for me to talk about how appealing I find humility and discipline, but as soon as they started telling me what I can and can't do, I'd just say, Forget that mess.
Or, if it were the Catholics, Forget that Mass.
I apologize for the bad pun. But I like bad puns.
By
Feemus, at 6:48 PM
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