The trick it seems is to develop the skills, the awareness, the strength to “be in the world, but not of the world.”
If you can accomplish this you have freed yourself from petty unhappiness and tapped into a larger more powerful happiness.
“Be in the world” - THE DUALITY
You are in the world, with all of its physical and mental aspects. This is to be part of your daily experiences, to be “right there” giving it your 100% attention. Being in the world is to get involved in your surroundings, to live life with full energy and interaction. You are living its abstractions or delusions as well as seeing the world as it is right in front of you. You are in your mind where past, present and future have no distinction, where fantasy, dillusion and reality mingle without separation. You are in the hard facts of reality, crisp and clear, beautiful in their perfect truth. You live the paradox of truth and illusion, happiness and sadness, life and death. This is the duality of life. This is your environment, much like the weather.
“but not of the world” - YOUR CONSTANT SOURCE
Your SOURCE of power, truth and awareness does NOT come from the world. You are in the world but you do not depend on the ebb and flow of that world for your happiness, direction, inspiration, wisdom, or fulfillment. You may share all those things with the world in the form of your art and activities but you do not DEPEND on the world to share it back. Your SOURCE comes from a force that is not part of the world. It is not part of your physical body or mind. It is outside of that. As the world ebbs and flows, is good and bad, happy and sad, your SOURCE is CONSTANT. It is not a duality. It is ONE.
To access this SOURCE you must have an awareness ABOVE AND BEYOND the normal duality of the world. This awareness is achieved, well, through awareness….becoming aware that there is a constant force behind the relatively minor dualistic energies of your day to day awareness allows you to access the power. It is a circular activity: seeing the higher power allows you to see the higher power. Seeing the illusion of the world allows you to see the illusion of the higher world. Humans, above all else, are here to learn the essence of awareness. If we learn it we succeed as a race. If we don’t we die and the universe dies with us. The universe is counting on us for this contribution. In return the universe gives us unlimited power for all of eternity.
Becoming aware of the dualistic nature of life plus the eternal source of our power and then being able to live the triad in harmony is our destiny.
Yin/Yang + eternal power = The Triad = Humanity Awakened
John
Southern Baptist upbringing, currently an apostate (somebody who has lost their faith).
My father was a Southern Baptist Minister, and I was raised deep in that tradition. I was taught to believe that the Bible should be interpreted literally and that Jesus is the only path towards salvation. Fundamentalism in Christianity, and I guess in any religion, does not allow you to compartmentalize your life. So, the religious beliefs we were given intended to permeate every part of our life.
It informed how we related to others, what type of television we watched, and whether we drank alcohol or not. Proselytizing, sharing our faith with others, was also a huge part of the religious experience. And the religious experience was everything. I remember in high-school, in addition to playing football and being in student government and all that, I was known as the devout Christian. I would take my Bible to study hall to read.
I can remember a particular time in study hall when someone came to me and they were having some problems in life. It was an opportunity for me to share the idea of salvation, as I understood it, and we prayed on the spot. He became a born again Christian, right there in the study hall. It was exhilarating!
I was like this everywhere. Because I was a quarterback in football I was welcomed into the party circle in high school. I would go to these parties and make a point to get a clear glass and fill it with milk. While everyone else was getting wasted and engaging in all sorts of licentious, sinful behavior I walked around with my glass of milk and my Bible.
As I look back at it now, it is like remembering another person. It is interesting, though, that the seeds of my faith’s own destruction were formed in my very desire to be a better Christian. In college, and I went to a religious college, I got into Christian Apologetics, which is the study of Christian philosophy, because I wanted to be a better defender of Christianity. I wanted to learn how to counter those people who pointed out Christianity’s flaws.
This lead me to study philosophy, and was an important part in my becoming doubtful of my religion. At the time that was a big thing. There was a year or two when I literally didn’t go a day without breaking down and crying. When you are in the fundamentalist evangelical tradition you take faith seriously, and when you begin to question it, then it is not simply a small tinkering with the beliefs, you are engaging in a complete overhaul of your entire being.
Because the religion deeply affects your whole identity, your whole concept of reality, to change it is a very painful transition. But I had to change. One of the things that really bothered me was the concept that people were going to spend eternity in torment, anguish and hell if they did not accept that Jesus was the son of God, that he came and died for our sins, and that he rose from the grave.
I remember one night, I was sharing my new doubts with a Christian friend, and, after listening to me quietly, she looked at me with concern and sadness, and said, “John, I think you might be the Anti-Christ.” But I kept thinking of the majority of the world who would never be exposed to Christianity and thus, according to what I was taught, were destined for hell. It seemed profoundly unfair. I decided that if it is true that they are going to hell, then I did not want to worship a God that lets that happen.
My mother was very sad about my decision. I had became an Apostate, she would say. That’s somebody who has lost the faith. She has only recently realized to what extent I’ve drifted way from the beliefs she so tried to instill in me. I get an e-mail from her everyday now asking me to go to church, and saying how much she loves me and is praying for me.
I have mixed feelings about this because I know she wants me to believe the right things, but at the same time I feel like a tool. Christians have this way of being so nice and solicitous to you, but it is always doubtful whether they really like you or whether they want you to change your beliefs. I even feel this with my mother.
Up until recently I had tried to be honest with my parents regarding my changes, but that just got me nowhere. It was just a source of frustration for all of us, because I would attempt to articulate my new views, but for my mother they were simply incomprehensible. Her understanding is that once you become a born again Christian, then you have reached the goal, and there is nowhere to go from there.
So, it is a conundrum for her that I could once be a devout Christian and now no longer have those beliefs. That’s why I’ve started lying to her, telling her things like, “Oh yes, mother, I’ll be in church for Easter. As a matter of fact I’m looking forward to church. And I’ll be thinking of you mother.” But I’m not going to church. Since it makes her feel better about her only son’s eternal destination, I don’t feel so bad about lying.
But I’m not an atheist now, because I still feel there is a God. I’m perhaps an agnostic, or a deist, even though deism went out a few centuries ago. As much as I’ve purged myself, there’s still the notion that something much bigger exists. It is probably impossible for me to ever comprehend it.
I have a faith in something I can not understand, so I don’t put much importance into it. My faith now is mainly an ethical one, as opposed to being metaphysical or spiritual. The pivotal value now is really about being a good person, treating other people with respect. To me that’s what Christianity is really about. Christ emphasized your interaction with others as the starting point for your relationship with God.
I still think Christ was a good example, just like Gandhi or Mother Theresa. Christ was a liberal, a revolutionary. The only condemnatory language he ever had was directed towards the religious leaders. And at the same time he hung out with those who were considered the most corrupt in his society: tax collectors, people in cohoots with the Roman empire, prostitutes.
After all, his first miracle was to change water into wine. It was at a wedding, and back then they didn’t just have a wedding celebration for a few hours; it lasted days. They drank and danced and had huge parties. So, at one of these parties that Jesus was attending, after a few days they ran out of liquor. And who do they turn to? Jesus. He stepped up to keep the party going! That may be a liberal interpretation, but it shows how He embraced humanity.
We don’t have a God’s eye point of view and it would be dishonest to try and live our lives as if we did. We have a lot of questions and very few answers. And we should embrace that. We should be more tolerant, with humility, admitting that we don’t have all the answers. I remember my father telling me that any problem in life can be answered by the Bible.
That was certainly how he dealt with any problem he had with my mother. Before they got divorced, she wanted to go and get counseling, but he would refuse and say the Bible was the only counseling they needed. Yet, since he was a Southern Baptist Minister, he was the final arbiter of what the Bible meant. This created an authoritarian, oppressive family life – not good. Not good at all. I’ve been estranged from my father for some time.
Interestingly enough, though, recently I’ve begun to reexamine my relationship with my father,. Up to this point I’ve always had forbidding, ominous dreams about him. They were very unpleasant. But over the past few weeks I’ve been having sympathetic dreams towards him.
Frankly, I’m not sure that I’m too crazy about my new dreams, because it was much easier for me when I didn’t see any humanity in my father at all, when I just saw him as this monster. Now, these dreams have been portraying him in a much more human light, with faults and shortcomings. Oddly, these subtleties are more difficult to live with.
The relationship most Catholics have towards their church in Mexico is mainly one of fear. The religion they teach you, from childhood to old age, is a religion of control. Catholicism is there to tell us what not to do: you should not have sex before marriage, you should not masturbate, you should not lie, and so on. But they give no clear explanation of why we shouldn’t do it. We are only told we will be punished if we do.
I think this is why most people in Mexico find it difficult to have an intimate and enthusiastic religious life. This is wrong, and is the fault of the priests. There is no place in the gospel, or anywhere else, which tells you that religion should be taught in that way. On the contrary, religion should be a liberating experience, and Mexico does have some experience in this.
When Mexico was conquered by Spain, the missionaries came too, and they really did an excellent job at spreading the faith. But generally, people today do not think religion is something that will make them happy. They see it as a constraint, as something that is asking for sacrifice now for the sake of a life after death. This makes most people very indifferent towards religion.
However, since ninety-six percent of Mexico is Catholic, it is convenient to be Catholic. There are a lot of social things that push you to be Catholic. Some even show off with it, by going to church every Sunday and by showing how religious they are, even though they are not. It is difficult to separate those who are going to church for the image and those who are truly religious. I think ninety percent feel very distant from the church. They go to church simply out of custom.
When I was a kid I was a Catholic, but only because I was following my parents. I went to church regularly, I confessed often. I was trying to follow the code book of being a good Catholic. But the older I got, I began to see the emptiness of it all. At first, the natural reaction was to distance myself from the church.
Then, when I was about eighteen, I realized that religion might be something that comforts you. I began to feel that maybe it could help me to be happy here, in this life. I’m not worried about going to heaven or hell. I’m concerned about being happier now, today. I discovered that religion helps in that sense, and I drifted back to Catholicism.
Even though I’m a bad Catholic, even though I’m a regular sinner, one of the most serene moments I’ve had in my life was when I was connecting with God. These moments are very rare, extremely rare, but they are there nonetheless. That’s where I am now. I’m Catholic because I’ve decided to be. I don’t follow the Catholic traditions that much. I don’t take Communion, mainly because I haven’t confessed for at least seven years.
And I don’t think I will either. If were to talk to a priest about this, he would say I’m not even following the most basic Catholic principles. But I still consider myself Catholic. I’m following the parts that are most helpful for me. Life is difficult, with many ups and downs, and religion helps me weather that. It makes me feel protected.
Going to church to pray has the same effect as a good psychiatrist. I go to Church and I share my worries with somebody who I respect and trust. I get comfort in this. I feel relief. For me, my religion makes me serene.
As a Hindu growing up, I was told many stories. Hinduism is full of mythology, and us children were constantly being told religious stories. The stories were about anything from the creation of the universe to why squirrels in India have three stripes on their backs. That is the one thing I miss from childhood, those bedtime stories. I did not have a dogmatic upbringing, though.
Sure, I participated in the festivals and certain cultural rituals, but it was not a daily or weekly thing. I did inherit certain values. These are mostly universal, such as honest, hard work, personal honesty, and respect for others. If I had to distil the Hindu message, for me it would be not to let the fruits of my work distract me from the work itself. I can only choose to do what I think is the right thing, but I have no control over the outcome.
What I like about Hinduism is that it is really open for your own interpretation. The basic idea is that you can find God in many ways, so that allows people to seek Him in the way they feel most comfortable. Of course, like any religion, it has its share of dogmatic areas and fanatical followers.
It is strict in certain areas, such as eating habits, but these are usually socio-cultural issues, and not religious ones. As far as choosing your religious path, I feel it is very flexible. In fact, there is nothing really in Hinduism that says you can’t worship, say, Christ, since it acknowledges that there are various paths to the Ultimate One.
If you feel salvation would be best through Allah, or Buddha, then you can take that way. It is ridiculous to say, “We are the only ones who know what the truth is,” or to condemn somebody following Islam, telling them they are doomed to hell forever. That is dumb, because they could be very virtuous and sincere in their religion.
In my family, we traditionally follow Vishnu, but I worship whoever I choose at the time. Krishna is a colorful character, so I might choose him if I’m in that mood. Or I might want the purity and perfection of Lord Rama. It is similar to the Greek pantheon, where you have all these Gods who are constantly up to their antics, each one with their own personality. You take what you need at the time.
I find Hinduism unique compared to the other religions. Firstly, it does not have a traceable root. Christianity can be traced to Jesus, Islam to Mohamed, and Judaism to Moses, but there is no one figure you can take Hinduism back to. No one person founded it. Likewise, Hinduism has many texts to draw from, unlike Islam, which focuses on the Koran, or Christianity’s Bible.
Another thing is that you can’t convert to Hinduism, you have to be born into it. It has no system of conversion like other beliefs. You have the Hari Krishna movement which takes in foreigners, but it is not the same as, say, a born again Christian conversion.
Hinduism’s pantheon of thousands of deities also sets it apart. But you have the basic trinity as well: the Creator, the Preserver, and the Destroyer, or Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, respectively. What is really interesting, though, is that Hindus believe that true enlightenment is the ability to connect with God directly, without any of the deities as intermediaries.
So, eventually, the goal is to not need the religion or its idols at all. But I don’t think Hinduism is in any danger of going away. Eighty percent of India is Hindu, so there’s still a lot of people who need to reach enlightenment before they discard their religion.
Kazuma
Japan. Technically a Buddhist, but is more accurately a practitioner of ancestral worship.
If I were asked if I’m religious, I would probably say no. But, maybe my religion is ancestral worship. I’m from Okinawa. It is a cultural minority in Japan, so my background is different from a typical Japanese person. In my house we have an altar. Its form is Buddhism, but the content is ancestral worship.
Formally speaking, my religion is Buddhism, but I don’t practice it at all. Practically speaking, my religion is ancestral worship. The definition of practice is very difficult. For example, on New Years day, many people go to shrines to pray for health and prosperity. This is a form of practice, but it is hardly religious. It is a worldly, or practical approach.
We have a lot of annual, and even daily, ritual which stems from religion, but most Japanese people consider these rituals to be old customs only, and not religious. Perhaps scholars would try to say it is religious, but common people don’t see it that way.
Yet, religion does exist in Japan. Today, especially among the younger generation, many people are getting into cults. It has become notorious. For example, the Oumu cult, which I think came from India. They got a lot of press recently for leaking sarin gas into the subway and killing many people. They are not the only ones. There are several other bizarre and dangerous cults in Japan.
Of course, another religion in Japan is Christianity. Many Americans are in Okinawa because we have a huge US military base there. It has more than fifty thousand people, not only solders, but teachers, doctors, and family, and they helped spread Christianity. They’ve built a lot of churches.
But, I would say you have three main Japanese religions. One is Buddhism. They have many beautiful temples. A large number of people’s customs stem from Buddhism and it’s offshoots. Zen Buddhism is an example. Many Americans seem to think of Zen as a peaceful, calm religion, but that is an incorrect perception. Zen stems from a philosophy of warriors.
Zen is used to strengthen their spirit in order to fight better. They calm their spirit with Zen techniques so that they can fight better. In the sixties, hippies and other Americans just interpreted the peaceful issues. There are not a lot of Zen Buddhists in Japan now.
Then you have Soka Gakai Buddhism. They are fundamentalists. Our constitution stresses the separation of church and state, but Soka Gakai always tries to combine the two, using their large wealth and political connections. You can always see them in the press trying to do this. Recently they had a split in their organization due to corruption.
Outside of Japan there are some celebrity Soka Gakai members, like the actor Robert Deniro. The organization uses that celebrity status as propaganda to boost their membership. They court younger Japanese people with posters of these famous people. You can join and get a Robert Deniro poster!
The second large religion is Shinto. This is a very nationalistic religion, supporting the emperor system. Many conservative, right wing Shinto want to return to the emperor system. But, again, it is not religion. It is political, especially if seen from left wing perspectives. This is why, when talking about religion in Japan, I feel anxiety. The Shinto are right wing religious extremists.
They are very political, and can be aggressive, especially towards foreigners or Japanese people who mix with foreigners. Above all towards Americans. So I have to be careful. For example, the Yakusa, who are Japanese Mafia, are Shinto. They are always praying for the return of the emperor, using the Japanese sword, Katana, in their ceremonies.
You just mention the Yakusa, and people get scared. That is why people don’t talk about religion in Japan. They are afraid. People have a stereotypical image of the Yakusa, even me, but it is enough to keep me scared. I’m a grad school student, so in Japan it is rare to see such people on campus, but when I go out to a bar or something, I need to be careful about what I say.
Even here at Columbia University, there are certain conservative right-wing Japanese professors, and I sometimes talk politics and culture with them. But never religion. It is too sensitive a subject.
The third religion would be animism, and this is very much intertwined with custom, and ancestral worship. Ancestral worship is very important to us. For example, in my family we have a name plate with all the names of all my ancestors.
My father keeps it in the altar at home because he is currently the successor. After he dies, his name will be put on the plate and then I will keep it, since I am the oldest son and next in line. Then, I will pass it on to my first son.
Ancestral things are important to us. When a family member becomes ninety-eight years old we have a big ceremony and party. Last year my grandmother became ninety-eight, so I went back to Okinawa, even though I had course work here.
But I don’t really have a religion. I know nothing about Buddhism, my supposed religion. Sure, if I’m going to die, then maybe my parents or somebody near me would call the monk from the Japanese temple, but that is simply form. The content of it is empty.
Eva Skog
Swedish secular upbringing, currently a born again Christian.
I didn’t grow up in a Christian family. I think that’s important. My background is that of a typical Swedish, non-religious family. The one thing that made it different was that I was sent to the church’s kindergarten, so I had somebody there who mentioned God and Jesus. Otherwise I don’t think I would have heard about God at all.
From kindergarden I took away a belief and faith that there is a God who created everything. I always kept that bit of spirituality in the back of my mind, even though the rest of my life was very much secular and materialistic. I had a good childhood in many ways, but there was no spiritual aspect whatsoever. Nothing from my parents.
Things stayed like that until I was fifteen. That’s when I had the experience that really changed my outlook on who God is. Somehow I got hold of a tape of Christian songs. I can’t even remember now who gave it to me. It was a Swedish heavy metal band that played Christian songs. I was sitting in my room listening to this tape and one of the songs really spoke to my heart. It was all about how Jesus had given his life, and how he was waiting to see if I would accept what that meant for myself.
He wanted to come into my life and be something personal to me. The lyrics went something like, “Will you accept this flower from Jesus? It is red as blood because it grew at the foot of the cross.” The flower was a symbol of the gift that Jesus could give me. I was really touched by the thought that He was standing there and really concerned about me, concerned about whether I would accept His gift, the sacrifice of life for myself. He wasn’t just concerned about the whole world, but personally concerned for me and my response to Him.
So, the next time the song asked me if I would accept the flower, I just said, “Yes.” That’s what changed it all for me. Up until then, I had never felt anything like what I felt at that moment. Before it had been very abstract, but by saying yes I felt something changed inside me. Afterwards I could put words to it, but at the time it was indescribable. Light, love and joy all mixed together.
I didn’t know where to go from there until I met some girls at school who were Christians. We became good friends. They took me to church and showed me things in the Bible that explained what I had experienced. This was a Swedish denomination that is maybe an offshoot of the Baptist church, but I’m not sure.
It’s called the Swedish Free Evangelical Church. Before that day, God was somebody who was out there, and I would pray sometimes for help and I usually got help. But after that day God became much more personal to me. He was still up there and powerful, but He was also more in my personal life. I could talk to Him about everything in my heart and in my life. I felt completely accepted by Him. The way a father is supposed to be, I guess.
My real father was always there for me. He worked a lot but we had good times together. I don’t think I had a lack. God is more than simply a father on an earthly level. There is a combination of authority, love and friendship in God. Because I feel the love and friendship, I can trust the authority. I know that whatever God is asking me to do, it is for my best.
He asks me through what He says in the Bible, which I believe is inspired by God, and also through intuitive feelings I get. I’ve often felt something in my heart, like intuition, that I should go speak to a certain person, and it’s turned out that that person really needed me at that time.
My parents are not against my religion in any way, but they don’t really understand it either. They’ve met my Christian friends and have come to church with me, and are happy to see I have good friends in my church, but that’s as far as it goes for them. They have not been open to thinking about what Christ means in their lives, from what I can see.
As far as other religions are concerned, all I can say is that I am not God. I can’t judge people because I do not know what is in people’s hearts. Us humans only see in part, not the whole. I think Christians sometimes come across as arrogant, because they are saying, “We have the only truth.” What we, as Christians, need to make clear is that Christianity as a culture is not necessarily better than others, but I think that Jesus is very central.
Whenever we say that we have the truth, it is not because we think that the Christian way is better. We say this because we believe in Jesus, and He said, “I am the truth, and I am the way to the Father.” He said that His mission was to come and open the way to God for everybody. He has already paid for all our wrongdoing through His death, and that is why Christians say that there is no other way.
But as I say, God knows our hearts, even if somebody never heard of Jesus, He can see their hearts, and He will judge. I think God is just and merciful. I’m just glad He is the one who will be judging, and not me.
I do believe there is also truth in other religions. There are parts of, say, Islam that I can agree with and learn from. As a Christian, I follow the Bible, and the Bible says that it is only because of Jesus that we can have forgiveness. I can’t be a Christian and not believe in that.
So, I don’t think anybody can come to God and be saved through their own lives, because we are human and imperfect. We could never reach up to his standard of holiness. Therefore, I do think that the only way to be accepted and forgiven by God is through Jesus, because he died for our sins.
But I also think other people can have some sort of experience with God. He speaks to people in different ways. My Muslim friends have a sincere faith in God. What I would like them to discover is that through Jesus they could have even more. I want everybody to be able to have the same wonderful experience I had.
Another thing to consider is Judgment Day. I believe that this day will come soon. At that time we will all be accountable to God for our lives, and the key deciding factor will be how we responded to Jesus. You have all these different religious leaders or prophets, such as Allah and Buddha, but I believe Jesus is offering something they can not offer.
The uniqueness of the Christian faith is that God made it possible for us to come to Him. Our sins have already been accounted for and punished through Christ’s crucifixion. In other religions you have a moral religious system with very good rules to follow.
If people follow those rules, they have good lives, but it is up to the person to follow those rules. For example, in Islam, it says that God is merciful and forgiving, but not because any punishment has been paid. He just forgives, period, without any consideration of how bad the person was. To me that means that God is not just. If you take an extreme example, Hitler, I think everybody would agree that he should be punished. So if God just let Hitler pass into heaven, forgiven, then we would say that is not right. Likewise, I think everybody should be accountable for their sins.
If Hitler were to really repent, to really feel terrible, to suffer for what he did and to ask for forgiveness, then perhaps there would be justice. What Jesus did for us was incredible. He is God, the God who created the whole universe, and He chose to suffer, to be tortured, crucified and killed for our sake. Because of that great sacrifice, He can cover any kind of evil acts, including Hitler’s.
That is why we can repent and be accepted by God. That is why God is not only merciful, but also just. He really cares about what evil happens in the world. He judged it and condemned it, but then He sent Jesus to take the punishment, and that shows His great love for us.
But on Judgment Day, if you have not accepted Jesus by then, then it is too late.. Since Jesus is the only way to be with God, I believe that not accepting Jesus also means not accepting God. An absence of God is…I don’t want to think about that.
Whatever good there is in the world, whatever kindness, whatever light and joy, God is the source of it all. If God is absent, then everything that is good is also absent, and that is a not a nice place to be.
For me God, he or she, whatever it is, is out of this world. He is the real power. He or she cannot be human, and we don’t even think in terms of gender. I have not even asked myself “Who is God,” because we just believe that there is a God. He created this world, this universe.
I belong to a religion that believes this. I belong to Islam. I am by birth a Muslim, living in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. For me it is different to be by birth a Muslim than to be by choice a Muslim, because if you are a Muslim by birth then you have no choice, you can’t change your birth.
At the same time this is an opportunity. You have the chance to learn the real essence of the religion you were born into. You can learn what the beliefs are that you inherited from your family. You have both an opportunity and at the same time you have no choice.
A person who is by choice a Muslim, he can choose, but for us we inherited the tradition, the values, the religion- everything, so for us learning more about the religion we were given is our evolution. That is how we grow personally.
For me, religion has some basic principles. You believe in God, firstly. Then you should be a good Muslim, you should follow the basic rules of what is correct and what is not. But I am not like some of my fellow Muslims.
I have never tried, and I don’t want to try, extreme things, because that makes your life difficult. This is where tradition and culture comes into religion. For example, I live in Pakistan and it is very different from here. What tribe I belong to, our cultural rules, our decision making procedures, it is all different.
All these cultural structures exist because of religion. People use religion to justify our culture, and this can get very extreme. For example, I know that in the Islamic teachings it says that women do deserve basic rights, but in many Muslim cultures women are not allowed these rights. People justify the lack of human rights by interpreting Islam to serve their own purposes.
And it is very difficult, even dangerous, to talk about these interpretations in a questioning way. For this reason, it can be very difficult to be in that culture and justify yourself as being a true and good Muslim. You feel that real Islam would not allow these human rights abuses towards women, but you cannot say that. For me, this is hard.
There are many things that I can not do openly, even when I speak to you now, not because the teachings of Islam forbid it, but because my culture forbids it. There are some things that nobody would allow me to do, nor would they ever forgive me if I did them, so I have to be very careful about that, even careful about mentioning them. This is the same for so many Muslims. For all of us, what cultural rules we must follow is not so much a question of Islam, but a question of what group we belong to, and how Islam is interpreted there.
In my human rights work, I must follow the basic principle for any intervention effort that tries to change things: I can not intervene from outside. I will not be effective in bringing any change or outside views if I am not working from within. Working form within, I must try to scratch out what support I can get from those who are already part of the culture, be it a village or country.
In Islam there are certain things that allow room for discussion, for change. There are ways I can talk about women rights in a religious context. Their marriage rights, their rights to dissolution of marriage, their rights to child custody, their property rights and inheritance rights: all these things are being misused in the name of religion by customary practices. What my work consists of is getting the more liberal religious viewpoints and interpretation of Islam, through interpretations of the Koran and by looking at other more liberal Muslim countries.
By these efforts we create a space to discuss the issues we think need to be changed. This is the only way to work. You can not confront the existing culture. You need to work with it, moving very gradually. It is risky also, because you need to maintain support from your family and the community at large.
For me, religion is very important, for your beliefs, for your conduct, for your life in general. The ideal situation is where people can live independently, according to their own views and religious beliefs, without any kind of threats in the name of religion from other human beings. In Pakistan, where 85% of the population is Muslim, there are so many different sects and beliefs that one gets confused by what is the true Islam.
Even amongst Muslims, who all agree on the basic principles, there is fighting due to differences of beliefs and interpretations. They are so extreme. They can kill just on minor differences. It’s happening right now actually. Just some days back, twelve or thirteen people, including kids, were killed in a mosque by another Muslim group. Just because of minor differences.
But we can have differences and still get along. For example, one of my colleagues in my advocate work is also Muslim. She and I have a difference in belief over whether to wear a scarf on our head or not. I wear a scarf. I justify it because even though it is a religion thing, I feel it is also a tribal thing specific to my tribe. For my tribe it is a question of pride. The women in my tribe wear scarves as a way of showing respect.
It is not really religious, because in Islam it is not clear weather women should wear it. Some extreme countries, like Sudan or Saudi Arabia, think you should cover your face also, but in Pakistan and Turkey it is not so important. So, it’s not really religion specific, it’s more cultural. Despite my differences from my colleague, we still get along. So many can’t. Woman have been killed for not wearing a scarf. They are so extreme, it is unbearable. That is why I never want to talk about religion.
Another good example of extremism is the situation concerning the Muslim religious sect called Ahmady. They don’t believe in our last prophet, they have their own prophet. But they believe in God, and they used to say they were Muslims. Yet, the Pakistani authorities declared them non-Muslim in the 1970’s because of their views.
They justified this decision solely because they felt the Ahmady was denying the true prophet. The punishment is death. So today, all Ahmady can be killed on the street by any common man. I’m very concerned about this. I’m a believer, I’m a Muslim, but I also believe that even Ahmady’s have a right to live on this earth, being human beings. This affects me even here in New York. A few days ago, at Columbia University, I was preparing a presentation about my country, and the outline was on the web. Before the talk, an Ahmady who lived in New York called me. He said, “Your topic is “Civil society in Pakistan.
Well, I am a member of that civil society, yet I have been here in New York as a refugee for twenty years. If I go back I will be killed immediately.” He asked me if I could talk about the Ahmady, and I was speechless. I do want to talk about it, but I can’t because I live in an extreme religious area! As somebody who works for an Non-Governmental Agency, I am a public figure and I have to be very careful about what I say because it travels back to people at home. If I speak publicly about the Ahmady I will immediately get in trouble. If certain people were to decide that me and my organization were pro-Ahmady or that we were ourselves Ahmady, then we would certainly be in danger of death.
These issues, though, I cannot avoid, being a Muslim by birth. But I am not an extremist. I practice the basic principles, like Ramadan and some prayers. Everyone is concerned about how you do your prayers, what you say, sometimes to the point of being ridiculous. The ones who are not concerned about the people, they only put importance in how you interact with God- the prayers, the holy Koran, the recitations, the Ramadan.
For them, and for most people in general actually, the criteria for being a good Muslim is somebody who is very religious, who prays five times a day, who practices Ramadan perfectly, who reads the Koran, and so on. But for me, these are things that concern only me and my God, and I’ll be answerable to him on the day of judgment. For me, the criteria for being a good Muslim is all about relationships, human relationships.
This is one thing I’m very clear about. I also know for sure that the question of human relation cannot be forgiven, even by god. It is the human to human relationship that is important. I feel the real Islam stresses this, but so many people do not.
I do not think Islamic rules are what need to be changed, because the rules in Islam are so beautiful when you look at them in depth. If you just follow the rules laid out for human interaction in Islam, then it is really very simple. They are basic human things, such as being kind and respectful to others. And that is what I do. I am not alone either.
Other women in my field feel the same. I am very clear about this aspect of Islam, and this is what will help us in bringing change. My basic principle is to trust in God, but to love people, because this is the teaching of Islam. That is how I lead my life, and I feel I am following Islam, the real Islam which to my interpretation is good.
Islam is not alone here. Every religion of the world is beautiful. I’ve learned a bit about Buddhism and Catholicism, and all the basic principles are the same. None say that it is O.K. to beat or harm others, or that you should not give rights to your children or women. It is just a matter of how the religion is interpreted by certain groups. That is what really affects its outcome in the world.
One way for progress, I think, is to put importance in mass education of Islam, and not to keep Islamic interpretation to a small group. Islam is so simple that everyone can understand it. The holy book, Koran, is not just for reciting, it has translations that need to be understood by everyone. Understanding is limited right now due to lack of education.
I feel that the general masses, through education, could interpret the true meaning of Islam for themselves, and no longer be dependent on the interpretations of a select few.
Ronald
Southern Baptist upbringing, currently enrolled in seminary school to become a minister.
God to me is found in love, and the most perfect and most sacrificing love that I know, that I have felt, is through Christ. He’s who God is for me. He moves around. He is wherever I need Him to be. It’s the Spirit. Sometimes I feel It in my chest or in the pit of my stomach when I get scared, or when I want to say an encouraging word to somebody but I don’t know how they will receive it, or how I even will say it.
But I feel Him there helping me. I’m also exposed to Him through other people, through their generosity and openness. I get Him in people’s prayers, prayers that may have happened months ago, but when I reconnect with them again I immediately recognize a spirit of prayer and communion that’s been shared, even unknowingly.
My father is a Southern Baptist minister from Texas, so I grew up in a preacher’s household, but only in the sense that he was a preacher and I grew up in his house. It wasn’t a strict household. I wasn’t a typical preacher’s kid, meaning the Bible wasn’t burned into me. My dad was actually raised Catholic, and later converted. And now he associates with a Methodist congregation because he’s the president of a Methodist university in Texas. So he’s kind of enlightened, or at least part of many different denominations.
Despite my religious household, for me the real awakening happened when I was twenty, the summer before I came to New York. I was in Florida working at Disney World and I was going through a lot of personal issues. I just felt like I wanted to improve myself and I didn’t exactly know how. Then a friend invited me to church, where they were having a revival series with a guest minister. His sermon touched me inside. There was something in what he said that spoke directly to my needs. Up until then I had been in the battle to try and learn more about my faith so I could be more spiritual, but I hadn’t really made a commitment to Christ yet.
Sure I had been baptized at the age of seven and I went to church every Sunday as a child, but that was just more of the upbringing. My father was a minister after all. But the real impact came at this moment outside Disney World, when I felt that I could finally just give over to Him, submitting all my fears and cares to Jesus, trusting that He would help me. I found solace immediately when I made that decision. I felt a sense of empowerment that I had never felt before. I felt such peace. That really started me down the road of walking with Christ in a committed sense.
That’s been about four years now, and boy it’s been a journey! It has not been easy at all, no, no, no. And I’m glad it hasn’t been, because it’s been a growing experience. I think life in general is not easy. Trying to walk in the footsteps of a man who also didn’t have an easy life (Christ), I can’t expect everything to be roses and ice cream. It has been hard…but everything worth fighting for in my life has always been hard.
The hardest thing in this path has been letting go of who I thought I was and who I wanted to be. I’ve had to change a lot of my dreams. Even my biggest dream of coming here to NY to become an actor has changed. I wanted to be an example to young black kids, helping the community in an empowering, positive way by being in the spotlight.
But my perspective was turned around. Artists, singers, actors, people in those industries; I learned about what they have to go through in order to achieve influence, and I really began questioning: Is it worth going through those hoops in order to get to the level where you can speak to a lot of people? And the answer was, “No!” I decided I didn’t want to jump through the hoops. So then I began to ask in what other ways could I make a powerful impact. And the answer was simple: “Do unto others as what was done to me.” The word of the gospel was preached to me honestly, and that honesty is what changed my career sights. I decided to be a minister. I’ve quit acting school and I begin seminary study in the fall.
But I know that my theatre training hasn’t been in vain. It has opened me up, giving me confidence. Even something like talking to you now would have been difficult before. Also, I was a marketing major in undergrad., and I feel that will help too. All of it will come together, the acting, marketing and seminary training. In a way, I will be an actor and a salesman, but for something much greater than movies and products. The marketing background has taught me practical ways to get the Message out, as it is given, or revealed to me.
The theater, apart from helping me in the pulpit, will be a conduit in non-conventional ways, such as having different ministries in the media. I think everybody can cite a peace of music, film or theatre that has touched them. Using those avenues can be profoundly moving. Technology has always helped put out the Word. Look at the printing press way back when. So, I think just being in the field and using the tools that are out there in a way that is worthy of the greatness of God, and ultimately for the greater good of human kind, is important. I want to use everything to that goal, including my training.
But the issue of race and gender in regards to God can be such dividing issues, especially race, in that we don’t really know what Jesus looks like. To say that He was this color or that color, as has been done, is suspect at best because historically race has been used to dominate people all over the world. And that’s not right. That’s why the Bible focuses so much on the Holy Spirit. For me that’s the unifying trait. As far as gender, it is said that Jesus is the Son of God, and I know that that can be alienating for some people. Because we live in a male dominated society, sometimes gender can be used in a domineering way that is naturally off-putting. This is never explored, it’s always just commanded.
It’s not that Jesus doesn’t have strict tenets for us to adhere to, but I think there’s a spirit and a way that we can explore what we are learning so that we don’t get intimidated by it, but that we feel welcomed. Women have brothers, fathers, and sons who they love and are loved by. So why not be the same with Jesus. Besides, we are all the children of our Lord and Savior, regardless of gender. God is Jesus, and Jesus is the Holy Spirit: the Trinity aspect. He is more than gender. I think we get caught up on technicalities that keep us apart and waste our time.
Ra
Technically an agnostic, but still a believer in a creative force.
What is God? I don’t imagine any of us have ever been designed to know what took place before the creation of the universe. My assumption is that it was a yin and yang. God for me is some kind of binary beyond anything that I can imagine.
Where is it? It is beyond anything that we can possibly understand because it’s beyond the dimensional reality that we live in, so there is no “place” that I can speculate upon. We are actually within God, in that sense. We’re within whatever created us.
Who is God? As far as I can imagine, it has to be a binary. It can’t be anything else. It certainly isn’t anything near the images of God we have today, because all of those are just build ups of more ancient spirit worship. And those people back then did not have any better grasp of the duality than we can. Whatever created the vastness of all this is far beyond anybody’s capacity to recognize or grasp.
I don’t believe in the concept of God as it has been portrayed over the past two or three millenium. As far as I’m concerned, all those concepts of God are still related to basic ideas of giving a human face to intangible spirits. The God that we can speculate upon, the one that is able to create the universe, is not something humans would be capable of seeing. It is beyond our reach to even fathom, since we are contained within it.
So, whether I think there is a God or not, in the classic language, I’m a true agnostic, meaning I don’t deny the existence of God, but do deny the possibility of ever knowing what that is. However, I’m an agnostic only in the sense of the language; I’m a deep believer in a creative force. But when you come to all those religions and their ideas, I don’t believe in that crap.
Dino
U.S. Greek Orthodox upbringing, currently a Satanist?
My upbringing was Greek Orthodox and I was kind of prideful about God. When I was in grade school I would always think about God and look around, saying, “I’m thinking about God and no-one else is.” I was very snotty about it. I took it in very deeply. And I’ve always kept that sense of superstition longer than most kids. Like, I believed in Santa an embarrassingly long amount of time. But once I quit believing in Santa, then everything else started to unravel. I figured, “If they lied about him, then let me question God too.” So now I don’t think I have much of a relationship with God. He pretty much went out with Santa.
But still, in a very shallow way, whenever I’m concerned about my daughter’s health, my reflex is always to pray. It’s still a superstition that just pops up, ingrained in me from childhood.. Even though I think, “What am I doing?” It’s probably ridiculous to pray, but it doesn’t hurt to cover my bases.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not like a Satanist or anything. Although Satanism… From what I know, it’s not, “Believe in the devil. It’s more about believing in life, this life, and having fun in this life. It may be anti-Christianity, but it’s not “Evil is good.” I just see Satanism as a nice balance to the dogma of Christianity. I guess Satanism is free of that oppressive morality. There’s nine satanic statements, or commandments- always nine because Christianity has ten. One of these statements is, “Don’t be nice to people who don’t deserve it.” So if someone’s an asshole, you don’t turn the other cheek. You don’t cut them that slack. As a New Yorker I can relate. Also, things like sex are considered good. Now that I think about it, I guess I’d rather be a Satanist.
But I have read a lot about Christ, and the one theory that I cling closest to is that Jesus was not an all loving entity. Jews consider non-Jews heretics, and he probably felt the same way. He was just a good Jew, but he didn’t love everybody. His work was focused on reforming Judaism. At the time it had a lot of hypocrisy. The Old Testament says, “You have to be good because God will punish you.” Meanwhile so many people were not good and getting away with it. So, Jesus tried to change this by preaching more from the heart: “You should want to be good.” That’s nice.
