Spirituality is Relationship
Photo by Gustavo Verrisimo
The point was that religion (or spirituality) is about relationship and not so much about rules and regulations. But people today have this whole idea backwards. That’s why people look at churches as a place where rules and norms are observed, instead of a place where one can relax and be oneself.
Come to think of it, that is a large part of what turns me off about church. Aside from mostly unenlightening sermons that make me tune out and doodle on the program sheet, it is the artificial nature of relationships. There is a large amount of trying to look good, of trying to live up to the ideals of what a Christian should be, a large amount of covering up one’s preferences and shortcomings instead of just being honest and open about them.
Followers of Jesus should remember that sinners flocked to him. They wanted to be with him. With him, they felt no judgement, no condemnation, only compassion and rest. This so irritated the Pharisees who did not want to have anything to do with “sinners”.
I would like to extend this idea to most religions — because there is indeed a tendency to have this “holier than thou” attitude when one is steeped in the protocols of one’s religion.
The true measure of one’s spirituality is not the amount of friends you have in your own religion, but perhaps, the amount of friends you have outside of it — who are aware of your beliefs and convictions, and yet enjoy and even yearn for your company nonetheless.
Getting Out of Church
Photo by RC Designer
Spirituality for me has become something very personal. It is not measured in how often I go to church or how involved I am in its activities. I used to think that way though, but no longer. Spirituality is in the moment. It is in the now. If you are not spiritual now, then you cannot be more spiritual in church (although it may feel that way). Spirituality is not a result of actions but comes by just being silent and still inside. It is an inner knowing of who you are — and a constant gratitude and celebration of your being.
When I was in high school (and still very much involved in church activities), I encountered a poem that I didn’t quite agree with at that time. But there was something in it that called to me. I kept that poem and even used it when I was teaching English literature a few years back. Reading it again now, I think I’ve come to understand it better, and I know why it called to me — because that was how I really felt in my soul.
Here’s the poem.
SUNDAY MORNING
by Oscar Peñaranda
Here I am again
sitting alone in my car
nostrils and mouth sucking wafts
of wind rushing through open side windows
on a cliff hanging over the bay there is
music from the radio
that green monster of a gelatin sea
kisses white tongues of foam kneeling
to lick the shore serenading the lone
oak tree
atop the jagged crags of rocks
there is music there also
they drown the chimes of distant chapel bells
come, take my hand
roll up your sleeves
and bare your chest before the naked sun
but
what I want to know is where
they ever got the barbaric gall
to call me
an unbeliever
this is how I pray
Materialism
Photo by Mykl Roventine
The master passed by a minister preaching against materialism. He was exhorting the congregation on the virtues of sacrificing their earthly desires for the rewards of heaven.
“Our treasure does not lie here on earth,” he said, “But it lies in the bosom of our heavenly Father.”
“Interesting,” remarked the master. “You preach against materialism but yours is even worse because you desire to bring it to the next life. You tell people not to cling to their possessions here by guaranteeing that they will have all those and more in the next life. You are after intangible rewards, but a reward nonetheless. What is so virtuous about that?”
Theology
A theologian came to see the master.
“Why is it that you are so against theology?” he asked.
“It is not really theology that I am against, but what it has become, and how it is now being used and understood,” said the master.
“What do you mean?” said the theologian.
photo courtesy of Susan WD, Flickr
“Well, theology first came into being because man was interested to explore and know more about the truth. But theology today is very different. It is no longer a search for truth,” said the master.
“What is it now then?” said the theologian.
“A maintenance of a belief system,” replied the master.
Be a Mirror
The preacher said, “The best thing that we can do is to leave everything in God’s hands. Realize that only he knows what is best for us. Don’t insist on your way but let God decide your path.”
photo courtesy of aloshbennet, Flickr
Replied the master, “If I followed your advice, I would wake up everyday and do nothing. What you are seemingly advocating as courageous faith is really a cowardly act of avoiding responsibility. What your God would probably want you to do is to have some spine and own up to the decisions you make. Realize that whatever happens to you is no one’s fault but your own (yes, it’s not even God’s fault even though you’re too afraid to admit that you blame him). Realize too, that nothing is ever good or bad. It is only within a particular situation or frame of reference that they are good or bad for you.”
“This is the key to wisdom: Be a mirror. A mirror reflects but never judges whether what is reflected is beautiful or ugly. It simply shows reality as it is. Be a mirror. Be silent. Judge not.”
