Does a prayer have to be more than just wishful thinking?
Does a religion have to be codified?
I wake up each morning hoping the new dawn brings the world more peace and more justice.
I work each day to bring about changes in my world that nudge my environs in that direction.
I believe in generosity, and that selfishness is detrimental to community.
I believe that the world would be a better place if hours invested in formal prayer were instead invested in their Habitat for Humanity, and then the need for prayer would be greatly reduced.
I believe that any God worth their salt would be more appreciative of your trying to convince others to join you in service at your neighborhood food bank than to join you at your church service.
I believe that a God who requires you get on bended knee and worship them on a regular basis has serious self esteem issues.
I believe instead of God making man in God's image, it is more likely that man made God in our image.
I believe religions evolve as their overarching culture does. That in a prospering community, God will be more loving and pay closer attention to life's minutia. While in harsher/more desperate climes, God will be more authoritarian and demand stricter adherence to established doctrine.
I believe religion, like our constitution, should be a living, evolving doctrine and that strict adherence to fundamentalist doctrine leads to, or at least goes hand-in-hand with, cultural stagnation.
I believe a God who listens to one "Our Father" followed by ten "Hail Mary's", repeated over and over again, ad nauseam, has time on their hands that could be better put to more constructive use.
I believe that visiting third world and developing nations and preaching that the only acceptable method of contraception is the rhythm method is not only a sin but an abomination.
So which banner do I march under? Agnostic? Atheist? Humanist? Pagan? Certainly not Roman Catholic, been there, did that. My "religious" beliefs are amorphous and malleable, and continue to evolve. These last 7-8 years leads me to believe that God has been called away and/or is no longer paying attention. The scientist in me tells me God is order and the Devil is entropy, and we all know how that plays itself out. (The second law of thermodynamics states that the entropy of the universe tends to a maximum.)
Agnostic:
Agnosticism is the philosophical view that the truth value of certain claims — particularly metaphysical claims regarding theology, afterlife or the existence of God, gods, deities, or even ultimate reality — is unknown or, depending on the form of agnosticism, inherently impossible to prove or disprove.
Atheistic:
Atheism, as an explicit position, can be either the affirmation of the nonexistence of gods, or the rejection of theism. It is also defined more broadly as synonymous with any form of nontheism, including the simple absence of belief in deities. Many self-described atheists are skeptical of all supernatural beings and cite a lack of empirical evidence for the existence of deities. Others argue for atheism on philosophical, social or historical grounds. Although many self-described atheists tend toward secular philosophies such as humanism and naturalism, there is no one ideology or set of behaviors to which all atheists adhere.
Humanist:
Humanism is a broad category of ethical philosophies that affirm the dignity and worth of all people, based on the ability to determine right and wrong by appealing to universal human qualities, particularly rationality. It is a component of a variety of more specific philosophical systems and is incorporated into several religious schools of thought. Humanism can be considered the process by which truth and morality is sought through human investigation. In focusing on the capacity for self-determination, humanism rejects the validity of transcendental justifications, such as a dependence on belief without reason, the supernatural, or texts of allegedly divine origin. Humanists endorse universal morality based on the commonality of the human condition, suggesting that solutions to human social and cultural problems cannot be parochial.
Pagan:
Paganism is a word used to refer to various religions and religious beliefs from across the world. It is a term which, from a Western perspective, has modern connotations of spiritualist, animistic or shamanic practices or beliefs of any folk religion, and of historical and contemporary polytheistic religions in particular. The term can be defined broadly, to encompass the faith traditions outside the Abrahamic monotheistic group of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. The group so defined includes many of the Eastern religions, Native American religions and mythologies, as well as non-Abrahamic ethnic religions in general.
Wicca:
Wicca is a neopagan religion with distinctive ritual forms, seasonal observances and religious, magical, and ethical precepts. Wiccans practise a form of witchcraft, but not all witches are Wiccans — other forms of witchcraft, folk magic and sorcery exist within many cultures, with widely varying practices. Most Wiccans call themselves Pagans, though the umbrella term Paganism encompasses many faiths that have nothing to do with Wicca or witchcraft. Since there is no centralised organisation in Wicca, and no single orthodoxy, the beliefs and practices of Wiccans can vary substantially, both among individuals and among traditions. Although Wiccan views on theology vary, the vast majority of Wiccans venerate a Goddess and a God, who are variously understood through the frameworks of pantheism (as dual aspects of a single godhead), duotheism or polytheism. For most Wiccans, Wicca is a duotheistic religion worshipping a God and a Goddess, who are seen as complementary polarities, and "embodiments of a life-force manifest in nature." The God is sometimes symbolised as the sun, and the Goddess as the moon.
As an active member of the GLBT community, I frequently hear "love the sinner, hate the sin" from our opponents. And the press, being what the press in the US is these days, presents a distinctly conservative religious bias on GLBT issues. So of course the knee jerk reaction of most of us "abominations" to organized religion is going to be from a defensive posture and will frequently be one of either scorn, ridicule or dismissal. The Bill Mahers (and GLBT activists) of the world would better express themselves by taking the more diplomatic tact of "loving the believer and hating the religion". Bill obviously gets more press coverage expressing his views in his manner. My associates in the GLBT community have dealt with persecution from various religious communities for millennia now, and see little press coverage of liberal/tolerant religious doctrine. So when someone from my community rails against organized religion, which I too have been known to do, please be patient with us. I hope that when/if you take the time to converse with most of us or get to know us on a personal level, you'll realize such blanket statements are in response to the most visible/high profile of organized religion's spokesmen in this country and not all organized religions or religious persons. Having had to suffer through decades of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson and Fred Phelps, and even the recent Popes, has left us shellshocked to some degree when addressing religion in any context.
as an aside:
Let me tell you about my Mom and Dad and being raised by Roman Catholics.
Roman Catholicism:
God is the source and creator of nature and all that exists, according to Catholic belief. The Church perceives God as a loving and caring entity who is directly involved in the world and in people's lives and who desires his creatures to love him and to love each other. Catholicism teaches that while human beings live bodily in a visible, material world, their souls simultaneously occupy an invisible, spiritual world. God has also created spiritual beings called angels, who exist to "worship and serve God." Some angels chose to rebel against God and his reign, expelled from his presence they became demons, having freely chosen evil and opposition to God. The leader of this rebellion has been called "Lucifer", "Satan" and the devil among other names. The sin of pride, considered one of seven deadly sins, is attributed to Satan for wishing to be equal to God. Satan is believed to have tempted the first humans, whose act of original sin brought suffering and death into the world. This event is known as the Fall of Man and according to Catholic belief, left humanity isolated from their original state of intimacy with God. The Catechism states that the description of the fall described in Genesis 3 uses figurative language, but affirms "... a deed that took place at the beginning of the history of man" and resulted in "a deprivation of original holiness and justice" that makes each person "subject to ignorance, suffering, and the dominion of death: and inclined to sin". While Catholic doctrine accepts the possibility of God's creation having occurred in a way consistent with the Theory of Evolution, it rejects as outside the scope of science, efforts to use the theory to deny supernatural divine design. The soul did not evolve, according to Catholic doctrine, but was infused into man and woman directly by God, an event that created "a distinctive race of human beings with moral responsibility and an eternal destiny".
Who knew? We never were taught any of that in church or in religious education classes. I find that stuff interesting and might have given the religion a higher priority in my life then if some of the theory had been taught to us. That's the odd thing about this religion, the services are unbearably dull and repetitive, the collection plate is circulated and you go home a half an hour later. Occasionally we'd get a letter from the Bishop, requesting a second collection plate to be circulated to raise funds for a special diocesan dedicated project. My religious instruction teacher was one of our two parish priests. A very nice gentleman who I'm sure was a hippie before turning to the church. These were the days of 'folk masses' and other 'new fangled' innovations to try and remain relevant. My last assignment in religious instruction was to find a current folk song that had a religious message to it. (Glorified 'Show and Tell' for a high school level class? Sad huh?) There were 4 of us in the class. Three brothers from another large family and myself. I chose the classic-
I still chuckle at this- the next presenter chose-
Eli is after all a biblical character! That's when I decided I was wasting my time with this 'religious instruction' and never went back.
My Mom was a saint. I grew up in a family of 13. And Mom somehow managed to make due with the minimal salary my Dad brought home to feed and clothe us all. This truly was a miracle, rivaling the 'miracle of the loaves and fishes', and our utilities were never shut off, so I guess she had the 'miracle of the container of oil' covered as well. We never went hungry, and never took a dime from welfare, and never even realized we were poor. She gave us all the love it was possible for one person to give, and fostered an environment where the older siblings stepped in as surrogates when we needed more.
I guess Dad was a saint also, in his behind the scenes, unassuming way. My Dad was a quiet, introspective man. He delivered bread for a local bakery most of his life, working his fingers to the bone, 24/7/365, his entire life. He would get up before sunrise each morning, get in the car and leave for work before dawn. He would get home in the evening, looking haggard and worn, aging well before his time as the daily grind of that tedious job wore him down.
In his early 70's he decided to retire early with reduced social security, and died shortly after of emphysema. Heroes are usually thought of as the guy who throws himself on that live grenade without a second thought to save his buddies. Well my Dad was a different type of hero, the kind that trudges through the trenches of a tedious, blue-collar job, his entire life, with never a complaint. The former variety requires a great deal of courage, while the latter, a huge heart. I didn't know my Dad very well, there was never time to, with that work schedule he kept. He could have held out and suffered a long, lingering death, but chose to fight off the medical staff that last time, when they tried to resuscitate him. I think the prospect of large medical bills burdening my Mom terrified him. So he chose that tactic to end his own suffering. So much for his 'golden years'.
My Mom was a housewife in the classic sense. Never even had a drivers license. She cooked, cleaned, did laundry, went to PTA meetings, worked 100 hour weeks, etc., etc., etc... I can remember as a youngster sitting with her after dinner, the first time all day she managed to get off her feet, watching the evening news and seeing her cry as the newscast showed civil rights marchers being fire-hosed during their marches for equal rights in the 60's. (did I mention that I am an old gay man?) At that very moment, with Martin and Bobby being interviewed by Walter Cronkite, a lifelong Democrat was born. I'd never seen her cry before... My Mom was also a devout Roman Catholic. She never, ever missed mass, and faithfully dragged the whole family with her each and every week, until we were old enough to make our own decisions about continued attendance.
After Dad's passing, Mom surprised us all by adapting to her new situation and making a full new life for herself. She picked up old, long neglected friendships she'd kept on a back burner for forty years, getting active at the 'Y' with senior swimming sessions, joining a seniors choral group "the Silvertones", that performed at local rest homes and senior centers, and even trading home cooked meals for rides to the grocery store and doctor's office. If anyone was ever born again, she was, and her children were both amazed and extremey happy, and extremely relieved. She continued to live by herself in the huge house we grew up in.
As she grew older, for lack of easy access, she was forced to stop attending mass regularly, but continued to watch the weekly televised sunday service on tv. One Christmas Eve, she was attending midnight mass with one of my younger sisters, and after the service she went to the prayer station to light a candle and say a prayer for my Dad. Up three marble steps to light the candle, say a prayer and come home. She took a tumble coming down those steps and broke her hip so severely it couldn't properly be repaired. Let me repeat that, she had a life altering/shattering accident while in a church, lighting a candle on Christmas Eve for her deceased husband...
After the surgery and a few weeks in a rehabilitation center, she surprised us all, once again. Her indomitable spirit kicked into overdrive as she, a seventy plus year old woman, against all odds, managed to reclaim her independence, and continuing to refuse to leave the house she raised her family in for a nursing home. She now walked with a cane because one leg was an inch shorter than the other, but she trudged on, continuing to swim with her girl friends, and singing in her seniors choral group when rides could be arranged. All of this was still possible and practical because my parent's bedroom was on the first floor of our house and had the bathroom directly off of it, so no stairs or long treks were involved in her getting around there. We installed a Medic-Alert system to be on the safe side and made the house senior friendly by installing hand rails and the like. Her living alone was still feasible because one of my older sisters lived only a few blocks away, and could get over to my Mom's in ~5 minutes in case of an emergency.
Well about a year and a half ago, she had another terrible fall. The Medic Alert system worked perfectly, with my sister and an ambulance arriving within a few short minutes. The surgeons and specialists told us later that the chances of anyone surviving this type of broken spine were astronomically small. She was rushed to the hospital and looked at the prospect of living the remainder of her life in a neck brace, unable to pivot her head to look side-to-side or up-and-down, because at her age the spinal column would never heal. After a month or so of agony and painkillers she died in the hospital, when it became apparent to her that there would be no miraculous recovery for her this time. Rather than linger, she gave up hope as the prognosis became evident and the medical bills began piling up. After hanging on through weeks of pain and indignity and drug induced stupor to see her children for a last time, she passed away in the hospital. If you could have seen and heard the despair in her friends and neighbors at her funeral it would have broke your heart. It did mine.
I haven't the foggiest idea of whether the dignity with which my parents lived their lives was fostered in church at those sunday masses, or was simply ingrained in them from quality parents and upbringings. I tend to credit the latter since my religious instruction was a bit of a joke and sunday masses were incredibly uninspiring. My Mom's 'estate' was finally settled a few weeks ago, after a lengthy legal quandary, and their ashes will be commingled and buried in a ceremony tomorrow. Mom had been keeping Dad's ashes in an urn until her passing so they could be mixed and buried together. Truly a romance for the ages.
my journey:
I finished high school in 1977, got an A.S. in my home town in 1979, a B.S. in 1981 and started graduate school in Albany a year later. I stayed in graduate school completing an M.S. in physical chemistry I didn't want and a Ph.D. in inorganic chemistry. I decided in advance to stay in the closet throughout because I feared getting swept up in the freshly coalescing gay culture that was just blooming in places like the Castro (SF) and Greenwich Village (NYC). Then, just as I started to nudge the closet door open a bit, AIDS came crashing the party and that very brief decade of the Renaissance of gay culture in our Meccas was over, replaced by disease, isolation, terror and anger. To have been given that brief taste of what life's potential held, only to have it so quickly snatched from us was breathtakingly unfair. For those of you too young to remember, you can't imagine what it was like, knowing that each and every act of physical intimacy could be a death sentence, and what that week between having your blood drawn for the HIV test and going back to the office to get your results was like. In those early days, kissing and oral sex were still very much suspect.
Having lived through those times obviously changes you. You hear talk of the guilt with which many of the holocaust survivors lived out their remaining days. I don't think guilt is quite accurate for describing how my generation of gay men feel about having survived the AIDS pandemic. I think we just view life from a very fatalistic perspective. Personally, having lost two partners and numerous dear friends to the disease well before reaching middle age cheapens your view of life. The inevitability with which my Mom's geriatric friends looked at her passing was no different from mine. Her closest friend Gladys, a dear woman also in her mid-80's, who was Mom's Scrabble playing buddy for years and in failing health, confided in me offhandedly at Mom's wake that she would shortly be joining her in the hereafter...
While I wouldn't willingly walk into death's open arms, it scares me that death no longer scares me in the least. About the only sense I can make of this peculiar life I've led is that there must be life after death in some form or another, call it reincarnation or call it heaven. My people, (GLBT) who are for the most part loving, unassuming, gentle souls, ask for little more than a place at the table, are shit upon by the vast majority of society for no other reason than who we manage to love. And this injustice has played itself out over and over and over again, in numerous cultures across the globe for millenia now. The dignity and grace with which we live out our lives under these circumstances must surely be rewarded in our next lives.
The video clip above is from the movie "Bent" which tells the story of gay men during the holocaust and that scene is a perfect metaphor for GLBT relationship to God and society as a whole. The two men are given the task of moving stone piles back and forth, over and over again, day in and day out, for the sole purpose of working them to death in a Nazi concentration camp. Society throws up roadblock after roadblock to impede our struggle for dignity and equality, wearing us down in the hope of breaking our spirits but somehow we struggle on, expressing our love even in the darkest and most hostile of environments.
Do I seem bitter? Actually I'm far from it. While the wells of my despair are deep and more plentiful than most of my online friends and colleagues, the depth of those wells makes life's little pleasures and unexpected triumphs that much more joyous and worth celebrating. While I've lost numerous dear friends to AIDS, I still have a few with me from that missing generation of gay men, and I cherish every moment I get to spend with them. So if a life well lived is reflected in the richness of colors one displays on our tapestry of life, my tapestry is a vibrant rainbow of colors and hues, with much more texture than the average human manages to incorporate while on their life's journey.
When sorting through my Mom's belongings, after her passing, we found PFLAG literature. My Mom, the 85 year old, devout Roman Catholic, had reached out to a GLBT support group unbeknownst to me, to help better understand us. Well Mom, I'm over Street Prophets, returning that favor. I miss you.
But it's not ALL doom and gloom. We have wonderful allies in places like Cheers & Jeers and StreetPhorphets, who have our backs for us when need be. Thanks to Everyone who is helping advance the cause of equality for the GLBT community. Cheers and thanks for stopping in this AM. This diary is being cross-posted at StreetProphets.com.
Terry
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.