Compelling Religious Stories
The early stages of life are marked by the development of, and identification, with our ego, with our story, with the sense of “self.” Virtually all of us start out here. Ego development, and the discovery of personal freedom, which includes boundaries and limits, is an important stage of learning in early life. This stage is characterized by a dependence on, or a grasping at, beliefs. Our well-being is very much tied to what we think and believe. Our thoughts, our stories, define who and what we take ourselves to be.
Religion, and fundamentalist, black-or-white thinking in general is a part of this developmental process. In Zen, they say of this stage, “Mountains are mountains, rivers are rivers.“
Everything is just what it seems to be, in other words. The mountains are over there, and we are over here, and we are just trying to make some logical sense of our existence. We are trying to find something to hold onto, some belief, or concept, or ideal, whether religious or otherwise, that will give us a feeling of meaning, purpose, and security.
However, it is precisely this need for meaning and security that drives us at this stage. Doubt, fear, and the quest for some kind of certainty are common themes in our early lives. We realize we do not know who we are, or what is going to happen to us when we die. Or we find ourselves suffering in some way: an illness, financial misfortune, the loss of a job, the death of a loved one, or a betrayal of some kind, followed by broken trust and shattered confidence.
Our fear and suffering cause us to look for something to believe in, something we can cling to for our psychological, emotional, and spiritual well-being. We want to know that the mountains and rivers are going to stay the same, they that will always be there. We want to know what is going to happen to us, both in the near future, and at the very end of our lives, when we die.
This stage of the journey is very dualistic, “us” and “them,” “me” and “it.” It is very much a journey of faith as we hope, or trust, that there is indeed some greater Power, some benign energy, whether we call it God, spirit, Tao, or Buddha nature, behind creation. So strong is this need that many of us, at this stage, develop a personal relationship with God, or whatever we call that power. We look to God, or our idea of God, whenever we are in need.
Some of us attribute the miracles in our life to Gods grace. Yet, we may wonder, what about the disasters that occur, the times of great personal loss or suffering? What about when an airliner with 300 people aboard, many of whom also probably had a “personal relationship” with God, crashes? How do we make sense of that? Can it be rationalized? Or do we accept that it is a mystery? At this time in our journey through life, the last thing we want to be confronted with is that, in the end, we are just a random event in a cold and meaningless universe.
Here we eagerly grasp at answers, and religion is very much there to provide them. The function of religion, at least in its outer, or mass appeal aspect, is to address our existential fears, and to provide answers to these soul-searching questions of ours. Man, throughout history, has created many religions, and they all have their own story, their own explanation of the nature of God, creation, and what happens to us when we die. Some religions even try to claim “God” as their own, as if theirs is the one true religion, and all the others are false.
Religion still has a role to play, even in an awakened world, but religion in and of itself cannot give the experience of true inner peace. After all, the main limitation of identifying with a particular religious story is that our inner well-being becomes very much dependent on what we think and believe.
We may adopt, for example, a particular set of beliefs, a neatly ordered worldview such as that offered by many religions, and which is designed to give us the inner security we seek. But should someone (or something) challenge our beliefs or present a different or opposing perspective (and in a world as diverse as ours, this is always happening) it can throw us into confusion. It can, and inevitably does, throw us back into fear as the very belief system we have become dependent upon is now being called into question.
Beliefs, by their very nature, are divisive. They keep us in a state of resistance and fear. You can not cling to a belief and be in a state of “welcoming.” Holding on to a set of beliefs is the exact opposite of the all-embracing openness that awakening represents.
Not only do beliefs stir up conflict and doubt within us (“Which belief should I hold onto, which should I reject?”) they invariably create separation and rifts between one set of “believers” and another.
Most of the trouble in the world today is caused by the attachment to fundamentalist belief systems, whether religious, cultural, or political. The more we see that all beliefs, even the most hallowed and emotionally-charged ones, are just mental constructs, assumptions of truth, but not truth itself, the more we find ourselves wanting something deeper, something more solid than mere words and ideas.
Jim Dreaver (www.jimdreaver.com)