It’s become part of my life. I have come to dread questions about my religion or faith … I even side step discussions that threaten to lead to such questions. Why? Because I do not fit the moulds people try to squash me into and this results in many seemingly offhand comments that are awkward at best or hurtful without that person even realising what they are saying.
I am neither baptised nor do I ascribe to one religion
What? So you’re an atheist?
No.
So you believe in a God?
Not in the general sense.
But? but … Ensue: spluttering, fish mouth, gaping eyes and similar.
If you want to find some moulds to help grasp where I come from here are a few:
Spiritualist
Student of (sacred) texts across culturals and religions
Belief of love being the central and highest force
Energy Worker
But those who have read some of my previous blog posts, might have already gathered I don’t fit into the typical cookie cutter moulds. And this post isn’t meant to layout my beliefs, but rather to show what an “oustider’s” life can be like, to convey some understanding and if possible be an eye opener.
Let me recount a little incident:
As an ensemble musician it is common to travel with the group to another town for a few days to play a concert. After x hours of traveling, it’s the usual routine of arriving, checking into our lodgings and then finding some place to eat before flopping onto the bed to prepare for a long day of rehearsals and concert. So, arriving late on a Friday evening I finally find myself around a big table with fellow ensemble members to “sample” some of the local cuisine. Me being me I don’t follow the majority who want to sample the rather heavy meat platters but decide to get a fish dish, so I don’t need ot sleep on a heavy stomach. On receiving my order an ensemble member jovially turns to me: “Fish? My, you’re an exemplarly Christian. Why, you’re the only one following the fish-on-Friday rule!” With a little wink I just replied: “Funny, seeing I’m neither Christian nor baptised”. Some others giggle along until the ensemble member has caught his breath, mockingly makes the sign of the cross and crosses his index fingers towards me as if to ward of the devil. What had promised to develop into warm laughter around us, immediately plunged into defeaning silence.
Am I bitter about this incident? No. I feel sorry for this person. Yet all the same it is uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of comments, jokes or even accusations. A friend once asked timidly whether I belonged to a secret sect, because she couldn’t grasp my “difference”. How do you respond to that other than an unsatisfactory “no I’m not”.
And yet I have come to realise that hiding away from such confrontations is not the answer either. Why should I be ashamed? Why shouldn’t I be different? A few weeks ago a blog article underlined this even more for me – some of you might even have read it, as it made the rounds via social networking: I’m Christan, unless you’re gay. Here is the passage that shook me awake:
Why is it that sometimes the most Christlike people are they who have no religion at all?
I have known a lot of people in my life, and I can tell you this… Some of the ones who understood love better than anyone else were those who the rest of the world had long before measured as lost or gone. Some of the people who were able to look at the dirtiest, the poorest, the gays, the straights, the drug users, those in recovery, the basest of sinners, and those who were just… plain… different…
They were able to look at them all and only see strength. Beauty. Potential. Hope.
And if we boil it down, isn’t that what love actually is?
Don’t get me wrong. I know a lot of incredible Christians, too. I know some incredible Buddhists and Muslims and Hindus and Jews. I know a lot of amazing people, devout in their various religions, who truly love the people around them.
I also know some atheist, agnostic, or religionless people who are absolutely hateful of believers. They loathe their religious counterparts. They love only those who believe (or don’t believe) the same things they do.
In truth, having a religion doesn’t make a person love or not love others. It doesn’t make a person accept or not accept others. It doesn’t make a person befriend or not befriend others.
Being without a religion doesn’t make somebody do or be any of that either.
No, what makes somebody love, accept, and befriend their fellow man is letting go of a need to be better than others.
It reminded me of friends accepting me, despite my being different, despite not having received a single drop of scared water on my body to claim me as part of a group. It reminded me of friends who turn to me for support and insight even if I do not give this within the paradigm of their beliefs. It reminded me, that though I am an outsider, I am different, I allow myself to accept and love anyone no matter what their background is or what they call themselves. Am I saying I’m ‘Christlike’? That is not for me to judge, but I guess it is something I strive for, even though I do not subscribe to the or a Christian faith per se.
If I hide away not to be hurt by another’s ignorance I gain nothing, perhaps I even create more pain – to me and others. In hiding I can neither be who I am nor can I really offer what I have to give. Thankfully, I do not live somewhere where being different is punishable, so I might as well stand by it and live it. I do not know whether the ensemble member, I mentioned above, ever realised what he did, but how can I even offer him a chance to learn and evolve if I do not offer this kind of confrontation?
Well, your belief-system seems to be one of immense strength, which might tell of some kind of ‘religion’ after all, even if it’s not from a book.
Definition of “Religion” from Wikipedia:
“Religion is a collection of cultural systems, belief systems, and worldviews that establishes symbols that relate humanity to spirituality and, sometimes, to moral values.”
“… how can I even offer him a chance to learn and evolve if I do not offer this kind of confrontation?”
It’s amazing you have the strength to believe so strongly it’s something for you to offer? I know, that for me I’d never dare to put myself on the line like that.
Any kind of kontroverse make my stomach go nervous.
Kudos to you.
Friends like you offer a lot of that strength
Perhaps in some form … but in the sense of a “community”, that is a bit hard when I’m alone. Going back the to the linguistic route of “re-ligare” (bind fast) not so much either, seeing it keeps on moving, reshaping and refining as I learn more and more. I guess the bottom line is that my “religion” is life, human interaction and progression, but love above all. Then again, ask me tomorrow and I might say something different.
As for daring or not daring … I guess one either accepts the challenge or waits the next one (if there is another to choose from).