Does the Average 'Sunday Jane' Really Believe This Shit?

My former profession was a female-dominant workforce. I shared a working space with three other women, all Christian, two Catholic. Though we never discussed it, I believe they were aware I did not attend church and was a "nonbeliever". From time to time, I would overhear conversations about various church happenings and promises to pray for this or that personal calamity.

I attended an undergraduate Evangelical college. (Evangelicalism is a branch off of Protestant Christianity which, most distinctively, recognizes the believer's "assurance of faith".) I took many classes on the history of Christianity, the doctrines of the faith, and even entire semesters devoted to single books of the Bible. So I have a heafty understanding of church doctrine. Not necessarily something I'm proud of, but then, you work with what you have. Clergy, pastors, reverends and others like me have a deeper understanding of exactly what is meant (at least according to current century interpretations) by phrases such as "the Word became flesh" (John 1) or "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood" (Luke 22).

Now back to my three co-workers, or even just the average church-goer in general. What happens when you try and bring up these tricky questions with them? Of course they can do little more than repeat doctrine they have been told, if they are even able to do that. But more practically speaking, when you are talking about something as important as the meaning of the universe or the final destination of your "soul", isn't it important to actually know what you believe? Even if you can't explain hundreds of years worth of the Popes' memoirs, shouldn't you have your own basic understanding of your religion?

Why is it that the average church-goer (or adherents of any religion) are satisfied with not knowing what the church actually teaches? Why are Christians embarrassed to talk about the important questions of their faith outside of church?

For the sake of argument, imagine me bringing up any of the following topics with my three pious church ladies:

• The Holy Spirit is God and is all around us. So, you're telling me that God, in spirit form, is right here in the air between my fingers and the keyboard. If I wave my hand over my head, I'm waving my hand through God? If I lay a stink-bomb, will God choke and gag?
• Those who reject Jesus go to hell. You're telling me that as we sit in this meeting discussing our plans for next quarter, all the while I'm (unknowingly) going to spend eternity in hell? How can you just sit there tapping your pencil? Don't you want to save my soul? 
  
• Prayer will bring about divine intercession that otherwise would not have occurred. So, your brother's uncle's sister-in-law is in the hospital and will have life-saving surgery tomorrow and you say you will keep her in your prayers. If you are so convinced this will have such a significant impact, why don't the two of you step outside and pray in the parking lot for this poor doomed lady? Why not? Oh, because you actually know that it's not going to work and you'll look silly in the process ... oh, wait, I'm ruining my own punch line.

Given half a chance, Christians will talk your ear off about the community service their church is involved in. The pious Christian is happy you recount for you Sunday's service as well as who they saw there and the latest gossip. But how often do you hear Christians in the real world talking about exactly what they believe? (And I'm not talking about the loony sandwich board guys. I mean, the soccer moms, PTA presidents, and bus drivers.) Their silence is odd considering how important all this supposedly is.

The first reason: They feel they are uneducated about the finer points of their faith. But even stripping Christianity down to its most basic belief that Jesus died for your sins, the average believer is at a loss to explain exactly what this means. How exactly does the "sin" transfer from one person to another? Once transferred, how does the death of this one individual make the "sin" disappear?  Assuming "god" is able to make all this magic happen, wouldn't it be quicker to just hose everyone down like they do with uncooperative asylum initiates. Even the most uneducated Christian needs to understand this most basic doctrine of the faith, enough to talk about it the same way you explain to your children that thunder and lightning are the same thing.

The second reason: They are afraid of criticism. Or, in other words, they are afraid of looking stupid. (I will skip the arguments for martyrdom, knowing that not everyone was born to be a martyr.) Why would someone criticize your beliefs? If they criticize your beliefs, can you present logical arguments to defend your position? Usually, the religious are able to do little more than repeat what they have been told about their religion. They do very little thinking about it for themselves. This is something to be embarrassed about. When Einstein or Newton or Galileo presented their "beliefs", how did they deal with criticism? They presented logical arguments, and continued to speak out. In the end, it turned out that their critics were the ones embarrassed. Why don't Christians (the average ones, not the educated ones) avoid the criticism?

The answer is that ultimately the every Sunday Jane and Joe know that their religion is hokey. They know they look silly praying outside of church, even though that is what their religion tells them to do. They know that the doctrines about Christ's saving blood don't mean squat. They don't argue with nonbelievers because they know how silly most church doctrines are.

This isn't enough, however, to turn Jane and Joe against the church. This would mean losing their family, friends, support network. Also, they can easily change the subject to the morality the church teaches (which Humanism also teaches) and how the church provides aid to third world countries (which non-religious organizations do also).

Ultimately, average church-goers aren't religious outside the comfort zone of their own church walls because they don't believe it. But they aren't ballsy enough to think for themselves which might actually mean they have to stand up and contradict the religious majority(?). 

Religious Divisions? Science Unties!

This past weekend my Rev. Mother spoke at ceremony for the departure of a Protestant denomination church from its larger national network of churches. In other words, this particular church didn't agree with the decisions the other "like" churches were making, and so, made the move of countless other religious factions before them. They split. 

Shouldn't be surprising considering it's nearly impossible to count even the number of Christian sects. Something like 41,000? Read this if you really want a breakdown. And of course that's just one of the world's Big Six religions. 

Even more impressive is this artistic map of the world's religions. Though as I understand it, it's missing several branches of Islam. Is it even possible to list every version of religion? Since it seems no two people

can agree, we could simplify things by listing each religion by each person who believes it. How many people are on the planet right now? *Sigh* See this is why I don't dabble in statistics.

All of this is to say the longer any one religion exists, history tells us, the more divisions it will have because the more charismatic know-it-alls will disagree with each other.

Consider, instead, science. Mathematics has been called a language all its own. Those skilled enough to speak it (regardless of what language they speak at home) can have conversations with each other. There's nothing about mathematics that ever changes. As it grows, it becomes more refined. And as it refines, experts agree more and more as to what is mathematically right and wrong. That is to say, mathematics unites those who understand it.

We see the same pattern in science. As more and more knowledge is gained about our physical world, scientists agree more and more. Of course there will always be disagreements about what is unknown, what has not yet been proven. But consider human knowledge of the planets. Once thought to revolve around our own planet, today scientists have a more accurate understanding of how celestial bodies orbit the sun and are controlled by gravity. In other words, rather than divide, this knowledge unites scientists. They can agree about previously discovered and proved theories, and move on to other mysteries of our universe. 

In Sense and Goodness Without God, Richard Carrier observes: 

[N]aturalists throughout history, who arrived at their views wholly independently of each other, even in widely differing cultures, have all converged toward the same general conclusions and world pictures, ensuring that our worldview even if always a minority view, will still find more and more uniformity rather than division of views. Yet Christianity a thousand years from now will not be the same Christianity lived today, just as what we have today is not the same as that lived a thousand years ago. In all periods we meet hundreds of sects at fundamental variance with each other. Every other major religion faces the same story.

So, this defecting church, pulling away from its like-minded sister churches, will set out on its individual path of "truth". Once again claiming to have the only true knowledge of "god" and what that god wants. 

If "god" were actually real, don't you think he would step in a do something about all these disagreements? I mean, he could really clear up a whole bunch of shit by giving us Ten Clearer Commandments which actually tell us something about abortion rights, marriage rights, human sexuality, taxation laws. 

I mean, if I were Goddess, I'd want these things cleared up for sure. 

My Experience at Zen Retreat

 This past weekend I had the opportunity to attend my first Zen retreat. I say, opportunity, because when you're a full-time mom going away for four days is a major production involving--but not limited to--overnight accommodations for children, transportation to child's various activities all over town, explanations and reassurances in three-year-old language that "Mommy still loves you" and "Mommy will be back soon", the packing of children's clothing, "blankies", snacks, summer workbooks, play scripts, computers/video games/portable gaming systems, and leaving the house in general order in the hope that it will retain some of this order upon returning. Anyway, you get the idea. (TheDarkLord wishes everyone to know that the house did maintain some semblance of order upon my return. This is his personal accomplishment.)

I had been to this particular retreat location before, in the Appalachian hills, at least 100 miles from the nearest Wal-mart. As I drive in, I am greeted by a resident (someone who lives at the location usually as a zen teacher) with a Korean name. And I'm assigned a room, a double, which I am to share with a stranger, in silence, for the four days. 

At zen retreat, silence is maintained beginning with the first sitting period and ending with the final sitting period on the last day. The exception to this of course is during work period when you can speak what is "necessary" for completing tasks--cooking, cleaning, yard work, etc.--with others. 

Initially, the idea of complete silence for four days was greatly intriguing. I mean, currently I live in a house with a preschooler and an ADHD elementary school student who compete with each other over how many times they can say "Mama!" in a single day. But after the first 24 hours, I was surprised to find it a little lonely. To meditate, and eat and sleep next to someone and have no dialogue with them. To know nothing about them, sometimes not even their name.

The general retreat schedule was as follows: 5:30 wake up (A shower was not an option for me at this hour, as I could not possibly be awake enough to be sure I wouldn't drown.); 6:00 thirty minutes of chanting, mostly in Korean, ten minuets of walking meditation, and thirty minutes of sitting, another ten minutes of walking, and another thirty minutes of sitting (all of this without coffee or a morsel of breakfast).

Finally, it's time for breakfast, and all 17 of us march from the temple to our nourishment in silence. Just the crunching of shoes on the path. The batting away of bugs (eeeeeeeeeenpt!) which have the propensity to kamikaze into my ear, mouth or eyes. Breakfast is another ritual. (There are several youtube videos on Oryoki, mindful eating, though none of them were quite like the one I experienced.) Essentially, you have four nesting bowls wrapped inside a napkin which serves as a sort of place mat, a spoon and chopsticks on top of this, and everything underneath your lap napkin. A small piece of paper on top, so you know which seat is yours, as no one can speak to tell you such a thing. 

I won't go into the entire ritual as the obsessive-compulsiveness of it might just bore you to death. I found the entire ritual both soothing and pointless. Yes, there is a certain dance to all of it, the sound of water poured from bowl to bowl, the clicking of the spoons, the silence as each participant finishes and falls still, the fact that you have washed your own bowl (with hot tea) by the completion of the ritual without ever having left your seat. But this, among some of the other rituals felt like something "extra" to me. More on that below.

After breakfast was a work period, followed by alternating sitting and walking periods, 30 and 10 minutes respectively, so that by lunch time I have logged 3 hours of cushion time just for the one day. Yes, my ass was hurting. Who ever said it was easy just sitting around all day?

Lunch was much the same as dinner. I should mention that the food was excellent! And you were permitted to take as much as you wanted "but not more than you can eat". At the first afternoon sitting, the zen master gave a talk, followed by interviews. Interviews are conducted during sitting meditation. Interviews, as I have been told, are a chance to ask questions and/or receive instruction about your practice. So, one by one, mediators left the temple and then returned. More on my interviews later. 

We had a rest period from 4:30 until dinner at 5:30, which consisted of leftovers from lunch and dinner. Nothing to sneeze at. The leftovers were better than any meal at my house! The meal was informal (though silent) and only a handful of individuals came. We ate in silence and washed the dishes in silence and turned the light off when we left.

The evening of course was another 90 minutes of chanting and sitting, followed by a hike back to our quarters in the pitch black. At 9:30, lights out. At which point, I'm not too proud to confess, I played Plants vs. Zombies until I fell asleep.

Overall Impressions

From my very first encounter with zen what I found attractive about it was it's simplicity. Zen teachs that you didn't need anything extra to attain enlightenment. That enlightenment can be attained now, today. (By enlightenment, I am thinking of satisfaction, and contentment with the self and the universe.) That rituals and ceremonies aren't necessary. The work of zen is done on the cushion. It is you and your thoughts, and nothing else. Or, as my favorite Kung Fu panda would say: there is no secret ingredient, it's just you. 


For me, then, the practice of zen is: when it's time to sit, I sit. When it's time to walk, I walk. When it's time to eat, drink or lay down, I do that. That is all. There is nothing more that is needed. Nothing extra.

Most of what I have learned about zen has come from books. One of the most insightful reads has been, and continues to be, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind by Shunryu Suzuki. A classic by many counts. He writes, 

"If you do something in the  spirit of non-achievement, there is a good quality in it. So just to do something without any particular effort is enough. When you make some special effort to achieve something, some excessive quality, some extra element is involved in it ... you should get rid of that something which is extra ... When you practice zazen, just practice zazen ... if something extra comes, you should try to stop it ... try not to achieve anything special. You already have everything."

It was all the extras, then, which I found incredibly distracting during retreat. To just sit, and just walk, and just eat, it seemed, wasn't enough.

Interviews With the Zen Master

I had two interviews with the zen master during my four days. And these short one-on-one sessions left me with a similar feeling as the retreat rituals. Unessential, useless, extra. It was not a bad experience by any means, and being my first time speaking with the man, I'm sure it would be difficult to give personalized instruction.

The impression I have is that interviews are a chance to ask "the master" or the teacher deep and profound questions about one's practice or the nature of reality or other zen paradoxes. But, again, for me, zen is quite simple. It's usefulness and beauty are based solely on that simplicity. And complicated discussions about how many bodhisattvas can stand on the head of a needle, seem more like mental gymnastics, a hierarchy of fools, than actual practical advice.

So, upon entering my interviews, I am always asked the same question: do I have any questions. And you've probably figured out by now that the answer has always been "no". There's a paradox for you, boys and girls. Now what is the zen master to do with me (who presumes to know everything) for the rest of the ten minute interview? After all, this is the main event, no? This is what we all came here for. 

I bear the zen master no ill will. He is an intelligent and kind soul, and I'm sure he has brought insight and comfort to many. But, truth be told, I walked away from my interviews thinking, What was the point of that? Did I miss something? 

To sum up ... while zen meditation may very well be a solid tool for focusing one's mind, gaining a clarity of oneself and situation, like everything else, it has carelessly bogged itself down with religion. It almost seems like there is some human compulsion to take a small grain of truth, a sincere moment of clarity and build up myths and ritual structures around it. As if without them, the truth might disappear! All conjecture of course. 

Bottom line: a total lack of simplicity at retreat was disrupting my zen!

Why I Let My Kids Go to Church: An Apostate's Perspective

My parents raised me in a Protestant church. They are both devoutly religious, sometimes even to the point of compromising their own happiness. But then, I guess that just makes them martyrs. And I suppose my reverend mother is thrilled about that. TheLordofDarkness and I do not attend church of course, as we are atheists. But my parents offer to bring our daughter (and son when he is old enough) to Sunday services. And, if she wishes, I permit her to go.

Certainly, I do not wish for my kids to grow up devout Christians. I do not want them to sacrifice their happiness for the sake of piety. And, most of all, I do not want them to develop the superiority complex that seems to come with so many fundamentalist theistic traditions.

However, I believe, the most effective way of preventing my daughter's "salvation" is to pay no attention to it whatsoever. I deliberately show no preference either way. In fact, in some ways, I almost think it is better, at least for now, for her to go to church, given the opportunity. Especially since I don't have to take her, which of course I never would.

Why do I think sending children to church is a good thing?

Truth is self-evident

When thinking of my daughter sitting through liturgy, I remember my own journey through the halls and falls of religion. And it is that journey, my own experiences, which have made me the luminous apostate I am today. A quote my Friedrich Nietzsche is one I have carried close to my atheist heart since the inception of my non-belief: People who comprehend a thing to its very depths rarely stay faithful to it forever. It is the knowledge of the thing which will drive her away from the church in the end.

I have complete faith in the church to reveal itself to my intelligent children in due time. Hypocrisy is never so clear as when you are face-to-face with it. I will, of course, love my children no matter what choices they ultimately make. However, at least when it comes to hypocrisy, an inability to recognize empirical evidence, and a reckless ignorance of the true needs of humanity ... well, the church as never let me down before.

The Allure of the Forbidden

If I learned anything from my parents it's that any time they want me to do something, I want to do the opposite. Even if I don't really want to. Just for spite. So, not letting my kids do something is the only surefire way to guarantee they will do it.

My approach? I keep it cool. It's no big thing. Sure, go to church if you want to. I don't agree with it or believe in it, but you can if you want to. The hardest lesson I've had to learn as a parent is how to make non-compliance a non-event. But once I got that down, well, I just took all the fun out of being stubborn!

Religious education is important

I know, I know ... say it ain't so. Whether or not we agree with it, religion is part of human history. And part of growing is learning from mistakes. Ignorance of history helps no one, and only threatens a repetition of mistakes. We don't avoid teaching our children the horrors of the Holocaust. Why should church history, or Biblical history, be any different?

Knowing about something doesn't make it true. Granted, the church will teach that their truth is the only truth. Unfortunately, for them, the world is getting smaller. Schools aren't allowed to acknowledge Christmas without also teaching Hanukkah and Kwanzaa too. Kids are smarter than most adults give them credit for. And the mere exposure to differing traditions, cultures and points of view reveals the impossibility of "only one" truth. Trust in the hypocrisy of the church. It won't let you down.

There is one criteria I gave my daughter for attending church. She is allowed to believe whatever she wants as long as she is tolerant of the beliefs of others. She asked me why TheLordofDarkenss and I didn't go to church. I very simply explained that we didn't believe in "god" and we didn't agree with the things the church taught. Predictably defiant, she proclaimed that I was wrong. That there was a "god", etc. (She said the same thing when I told her there was no Santa Claus, btw.) And I told her it was fine if she wanted to believe that. But intolerance was not acceptable, and a one-way ticket to sleeping in on Sunday morning.

Everyone is on his or her own journey through life. And I don't put myself in a position to tell others what they should or shouldn't be doing (except in extreme cases), including my children. I will be here for them no matter what paths they choose in life. And if nothing else, I can dispel the myth that atheists are evil, devil worshipers.

My "Favorite" Bible Stories: #1 The Good Samaritan

I'd like to begin irregular installments of my "favorite" bible stories and lessons as they were indoctrinated to me in my childhood. As my good friend, a token gay church attendee, B-Gizzle says, "Everyone likes a good story. Right?" The purpose to is see a reverse side to the incredibly asinine teaching found in the holy scripture. But, as with everything else, they will arrive at my leisure or inspiration.

The Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-27)

In this backwards parable (a story meant to teach a lesson, but usually doing a piss-poor job of it), a religious "expert" asks Jesus the secret to life eternal. Jews of course don't believe in heaven or the afterlife. This "expert" was referring to literal eternal life, AKA the Fountain of Life. Or, he was being incredibly sarcastic, because Jesus was preaching about heaven and the afterlife. I haven't personally decided which interpretation I like best.

Jesus asks him his personal interpretation of Moses's Law and tells him by following this he will "live". Eternally? Well, he doesn't really say that. Thereby, cryptically, not really answering his question. This is not so bad in itself. It reminds me of the koans used by zen masters, not really answering the student's question directly. The idea is for the student to experience reality/enlightenment for him/herself.

The "expert's" answer to Jesus is a phenomenally G-rated version of Jewish canonical law: love God and love your neighbor. Volumes could be written about the how most of the Old Testament completely contradicts these pious goals. But we'll go with this answer for now. It's his opinion, which he's entitled to. And it was an insightful answer, even if it's incorrect.

Next, the religious "expert" asks: who is my neighbor? I can't help but think Mr. Rogers would agree that a quick reading of the text would lead any (uneducated) person to believe that "neighbor" means "any one who's not you", pisshead! Is it really that difficult? It's like Taco Bell burrito brain surgery (when I wait eons in my car while they surgically construct my fuckin' burrito). But then, Jews have always been sticklers for semantics (no pun intended, but that's still pretty funny).

To explain the very simple concept of loving everyone, Jesus tells the story of The Good Samaritan. Some dude gets raped and pillaged and left by the side of the road. Who's gonna help him? A priest and a pious Jew pass by the troubled soul. Jesus doesn't say why, but I really think he should have. Did they not see him? Did they not have time? Is it like when you pass by the homeless guy, trying not to make eye contact? I think the majority of people can tell the difference between a panhandler and a guy who's just been violently attacked to the point where he can't go somewhere for help on his own.

Back in the day, Samaritans were to Jews what Mexican drug smugglers, pro-lifers, and lesbian sluts are to the Tea Party. That is to say, a dirty excuse for humanity. So, of course, in Jesus's story, the dirty, rotten, cuckold Samaritan is the one to help the severely beaten man. Whom, in his right Jewish mind, probably would have rather died than be saved by the scoundrel. In fact, Jewish law probably dictates that after such an encounter the recovering victim must be cleansed in the mikveh (ritual bath) with the niddahs (menstruating women). At least Jesus didn't have a niddah rescue the stranger. I don't think there are enough mikvehs in the universe to cleanse him from that!

Which one was a neighbor to the helpless man? The Samaritan, obviously. The priest and the religious man were not neighbors. So, back to the original question: who is my neighbor? The Samaritan, again. And, to bring the lesson full circle, in order to gain eternal life, I am to love my neighbor -- the dirty, worthless human being with a heart of gold -- and not the religious hypocrites. I mean, those two assholes weren't neighborly according to Jesus, right? So, whom am I to love (according to the Bible)? Answer: Only whomever loves me.

This Bible story, which supposedly teaches followers to love people who are different from themselves, is really telling us that we only have to love the people who are good to us. More specifically, people who rescue us in our dire need. That takes my love quotient for humanity down quite a bit. It also explains why religious bigots can guiltlessly blow up abortion clinics and slut shame anyone who doesn't fit the mono-ideal. 

Ah, I finally understand!

The Varieties of Spiritual Experience

Even from when I was very young, I always felt I had a sort of instinctual spirituality. My zealously religious mother drilled into me the existence of The One God. At night she read chapters of the Mosaic Law to put me to sleep. (There's an insomnia cure if I've ever heard one!)

It was easy to merge this indoctrination with my own natural spirituality as a child. I considered the two to be one in the same. It wasn't until my teen years, when my own sense of right and wrong started to rub against Biblical teaching, that I noticed anything was amiss. Still, I clung to my childhood teachings. At first, I separated "the church" from my sense of "god". But even that fell away, and more recently I have felt my own individual spirit soar, no longer tied to the doctrine of well-meaning, but hopelessly misunderstanding ancestors.

It is hard to explain what I mean by natural spirituality. It is a feeling of being connected to more than just your biological self. Some, I think, have a greater capacity for this experience than others, in the same way that some of us are better chefs or runners or drawers. Trying to fit this natural sense of spirit into Christianity only stifled it.

Any time I tried to express my ideas to someone "experienced" in the church, I received the sympathetic nod of "How cute" and "You have no idea what you're talking about". Of course I already knew that I knew what I was talking about. What I learned from them was that they had very little to teach me. They did very little thinking and spiritual feeling/experiencing themselves. Even the most "experienced" of church folk could do little more than point to chapter and verse to answer my quest-tions.

So, I left: spiritually, mentally and physically. It was scary at first to think that there was no spiritual light for me to look towards if I got lost. But there was yet another spiritual truth for me to discover, a golden nugget of truth:

The man who is ceaselessly questioning, who has no authority  who does not follow any tradition, any book or teacher, becomes a light unto himself. -J. Krishnamurti

And so I did. I became a light to myself. Not that I put myself up as some kind of authority. Not that I think I don't need anyone or that I'm better than anyone else. I greatly value the experience of others willing to share their experience (not their "knowledge" of the "truth", specifically "god's" truth from the Bible). I can decide for myself what is true or not about each experience.

The thing is, when I was seeped in religion, I was always seeking, but never really finding. Always repenting for sin, but never really feeling like I had arrived. Now, that I have let go of religion, I realize that I had everything I needed all along. Ironic. The search was over. There was never a need to search for what I already had.

[This] is all that matters -- your life, yourself, your pettiness, your shallowness, your brutality, your violence, your greed, your ambition, your daily agony and endless sorrow -- that is what you have to understand and nobody on earth or in heaven is going to save you from it but yourself. -J. Krishnamurti

(I realize this is only one spiritual experience and the title implies a "variety". This was more for the literary reference than to capture the effective content of the article. And thanks to William James for the borrowed title and spiritual insights.)

Evolution to Enilghtenment

I do not pretend to be a zen master or teacher. I use the term "enlightnment" here as general movement toward a more natural experience of living/existing. It occurs to me that so many individuals live miserably in the dark. There isn't one person who wouldn't grab paradise if it was offered to them. And, yet, there it is, everyday, going on right in front of them. Free for the experiencing.

A common zen comparision is the Magic Eye art. At first glance, the magice eye appears to be nothing more than an organization of random patches of color. But once your eyes focus in the right way, a 3D picture appears that you didn't see before. Paradise is the same way. Once you see reality with the correct perspective, you relaize you have been surrounded by paradise all along.

Meditation brought this progression of perspectives to me:

Everything is horrible

This worldview is hardlined focused on everything that is wrong with the world. You've seen these people, I'm sure. These are the individuals who are freaking out in public because they didn't get "extra pickle" or they're slamming their breaks in front of you because they perceived a personal slight when you cut them off. What a sad way to live, trying to make others miserable because they're miserable. Anger fuels more anger. This is their punishment, living in anger.

Everything is going to be okay

This belief settles for the understanding that while the state of the world may not be up to par, it will be someday. Typically, this is the view held by religious (or newly religious) people. While this is a definite improvement over the previous worldview. It still falls shorts. These individuals live in fear and anticipation of a better life. They are missing what is right in front of them.

Everything is okay

These individuals are often of the slightly more evolved religious persuasion. They have moved from understanding that "god" will take care of "his" creation, to "god" is taking care of things right now. The anticipation of a better life is removed. It is slightly less fearful and allows reality to exist as it is, without additional improvements.

Everything is

This worldview moves away from the perception that circumstances are "good" or "bad". Instead, things just are. They exist. Reality doesn't require labels: good, bad or okay. Take a deep breath. This is reality. It is. The removal of labels is the cessation of fear. Fear is the cognitive separation of what should be from what shouldn't. Not only can these individuals allow reality to exist as it is, but they don't even allow for the possibility for it to be anything other than what it is. 

Is

The removal of "everything" is the acknowledgement that the individual is not separate from the rest of reality. It is the understanding of non-duality. I am everything, and everything is me. Separateness between me and my lover, brother, stranger, inanimate objects is the illusion. The removal of illusion is the ultimate release from fear and anxiety. There is no separation between me and you because we are one. There is no jealousy. There is no suffering. 

Begging for Validation

I recently read a post on reddit's polyamory board about a woman who was upset that her long time boyfriend couldn't or wouldn't say "I love you". This bothered me though I couldn't pin down the reason right away. There's quite a bit to play with here, though I think the main rub is the way relationships are often used as self-validation.

Validation means to authenticate or prove. And self-validation is anything that authenticates the self or personal identity. There are any number of routes to self-validation. The usual line-up consisting of money, power, status, relationships, material possessions.

The dangerous side of using some "thing" for self-validation is the risk of losing the "thing" equates to losing the "self". This is how the ending of a job or a relationship can lead some individuals to total mental breakdown. It explains why others will remain in a crumbling or even abusive relationship long past the expiration date.

Since opening my life and relationships to polyamory, I have notice a drastic change in the way I relate to everyone, but especially my intimate partners. In the past, including when I got married ten years ago, I used my relationships as a means of proving to the world and to myself that I was worthwhile. Maybe even something special. (Fighting off the middle school demons who told me I was too weird, tomboyish, and ugly to have a boyfriend.)

I don't credit polyamory entirely for my change in perspective. Zen meditation and the practice of non-attachment were a big part of it as well. Attachment is the Buddhist principle of binding oneself to objects or concepts. Non-attachment is the release of that binding, including the attachment to one's own identity or ego.

Without the need for validation, I approach my intimate relationships without actually needing anything from them. I can appreciate my partners and what they offer without wanting more (or less). Each partner's unique form of love is beautiful in it's own way. And it's more than I could ask for. It makes no difference at all if our relationship or their method of loving matches some outside measuring stick of relationships, including when to say those three little words. 

Religion too is a form of validation. (I do not think of Zen as a religion, but a philosophy.) Being raised (and entrenched) in Christianity, it felt as though I was always looking outward at events and people for confirmation, or "signs". God was the source of my identity. This is why it can be so impossible for religious people to break away even when faced with solid evidence. The loss of religion is a loss of self. 

Religion, relationships and everything else will always prove inadequate as self-validators. It is my own "self" that I must confront and accept ... and validate. Not in a superior way, but in a compassionate way that doesn't hide or ignore what others might shun. 

And that is all that matters- your life, yourself, your pettiness, your shallowness, your brutality, your violence, your greed, your ambition, your daily agony and endless sorrow- that is what you have to understand and nobody on earth or in heaven is going to save you from it but yourself. -J. Krishnamurti

Marriage Manifesto, Part III: Where Do We Go From Here?

How does marriage function practically in the real world? A definition free of cultural stigmas and religious doctrine (which has no Biblical foundation) is paramount to the redefining of marriage. I am referring to “marriage” in the legal, not the spiritual, sense as discussed in the previous post. For clarity’s sake, I will hereto refer to said legal union as a “pledge.”

What a pledge is:

1. A pledge is a commitment. What is commitment? Well, that could be whole other post, but to keep it within Reader’s Digest range: a commitment is a formal intention or agreement to remain partnered with someone regardless of changes in yourself, your partner, or life events. As opposed to, say, a “dating” relationship where you “try each other out” like trying on clothes at JC Penny. A committed relationship means you’re past the try-out phase and you and your partner agree that you will stay together regardless.
2. A pledge is a public acknowledgement of parental rights/involvement. This one is tricky, as parents or step-parents have different comfort levels of involvement. Currently humans have elected to raise children in a “family” type structure. By default, any pledged partners will automatically be viewed by society as having some sort of authority over these children, regardless of their actual level of involvement. 
3. A pledge binds financially. This is where the government is needed to stick it’s dirty nose in. Pledged individuals want to provide for each other, to protect each other financially. The government is expected to enforce their wishes in this regard on their behalf should they become unable to. 
4. A pledge is recognized by the law as a person’s closest kin. Hospital visits, health insurance, probate … All the fun stuff we look forward to dealing with when we partner up with someone. 

What a pledge isn’t:

1. A pledge does not necessitate sex or reproduction. News flash: It’s optional! 
2. A pledge does not require that partners are different genders. It’s no one’s business but mine whom I choose my next-of-kin to be. Especially not the government’s. 
3. A pledge does not necessitate monogamy. Is it the government’s business whom sleeps with whom? Can a single individual pledge to multiple individuals? Why not? We don’t limit the number of children people can have, or the number of reproductive partners, or the number of extended family members. “Sorry, but you've got too many aunts. You’re gonna have to cut that number back. The law doesn't allow for so many aunts.” 
4. A pledge does not necessitate partners living together. The point of pledging is not to form a Cleaver family. The purpose is to have the government recognize your important relationships the way that you do. 
5. A pledge does not grant or imply ownership. Ugh. See Part I if you haven’t had enough of this already. 
6. A pledge does not need to be approved of or recognized by a religion or by “god.” Let the religious bigots have the term “marriage.” Let them define it any way they want. They do anyway. They don’t even defer to the Bible in this regard. Let them have their illusion of meeting their soul mate, and bringing up 2.5 kids. But don’t let them impose it on the rest of us via the government. The government needs to break away from this religious definition and adopt a concept more closely representing how people actually live. 

Author’s note: I in no way claim to be a linguist. My background is in religion, philosophy and psychology. I used the word “pledge” here instead of “marriage” merely to make a point. However, I do believe that a simple change in terminology can make changes in the way people think. True, lasting change.

I'd like to hear what other terms people like for this concept. Post in the Comments: What do you think would be an effective term for a legal "marriage" stripped of it's religious dressings?

Marriage Manifesto, Part II: Separation of Church and State

What does it mean to be married? There are two lenses through which this question can be answered. There's legal marriage as recognized by our government. Then, there's spiritual marriage as recognized by the church, or "god."

It is unfortunate that the word "marriage" is used for both religious and legal unions. As the current conflict over whom should be allowed to marry whom is a failure to separate church and state.

Spiritual Marriage

From a monotheistic religious viewpoint, the government does not define the parameters of marriage. Instituted by "god" through "sacred" texts, the institution of marriage is the ownership of a woman transferred from her father to her new husband. (Discussed in Marriage Manifesto, Part I: A Biblical History.)

The New Testament updates this a little bit, stating that the husband's and wife's bodies belong to each other (1 Corinthians 7). Still a far cry from personal civil rights. In more recent history, though, Christian marriage is one man with one woman.

What's important here is that America's Religious Right sees marriage as validated by "god" and not by earthly authorities. This is why gay marriage will never be acceptable. The Bible says that "men who practice homosexuality" (1 Corinthians 6) have "committed an abomination" (Leviticus 20). They will not "inherit the kingdom of God" (1 Corinthians 6). I guess this is supposed to be some kind of threat? Anyway, I digress. 

The Religious Right cannot accept gay marriage because it is not compatible with "god's" words in the Bible. Sadly, it is not the recognition of a spiritual marriage that the homosexual community is seeking. (At least as I understand it. Please correct me if I'm wrong.) All these queers want is to visit their partners in the fucking hospital and receive health care benefits for fuck's sake. These are legal issues, and not a place where the church should be sticking it's nose.

Legal Marriage

A legal marriage is a union between to individuals that is recognized by the state. This is a union mutually agreed upon (hopefully) by two adults. In the eyes of the law, the two individuals are considered to be bound together in the same way that biological family members are tied together. Married individuals are the closest kin a person can have.

Those who are legally married have rights that unmarried folks don't have. Like visitation rights in jail or the hospital, legal guardianship of children, and benefits offered through employers. Does "god" really object to who visits a dying man? Would "god" care if a same-sex parent signed a field trip permission slip? Is "god" really offended when Lipstick gets her cavity filled using her partner's insurance?

Legal marriage is about choosing your family, selecting who is financially, functionally, and personally responsible for you and to you. Bible Thumpers will never abdicate the definition of "marriage." So, maybe it's time to reify legal unions with a term that isn't dripping with doctrine. Part III will address where we go from here.

Marriage Manifesto, Part I: A Biblical History

Advocates for one man, one woman marriages base their argument on Christian values and "God's plan" for marriage. An examination of Biblical passages regarding marriage, however, reveals this traditional model is not a Biblical concept.

Marriage is not about sex or love, it's about ownership, property.

In Biblical times. woman were viewed as property. A man who had reached a certain amount of status and wealth sought to marry/own a wife. Exodus 20:17: “You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his male servant, or his female servant, or his ox, or his donkey, or anything that is your neighbor's.” Wives were the property of their husbands, same as his servants and asses.

A woman's sexuality was also his property. Her sexuality belonged to her father until he sold/married her to her husband, or the highest bidder. Men were permitted to have sex with their slaves as this was also their property. The major difference between wives and slaves was the status of offspring. Legitimate male babies were in line to inherit their father's wealth. Legitimate female babies could be sold as a wife. Any illegitimate offspring would only demand the price of a slave, male or female.

Nowhere in the Bible does it say marriage is between one man and one woman.

Today, rich men collect expensive cars, large estates or private islands. The nomadic Patriarchs collected beautiful women to display their wealth. Men were permitted to have as may wives as they could afford. More wives meant a greater number of offspring, another symbol of wealth.

Women, however, could not have more than one husband, as she could only be owned by one man at a time. Having sex with a man who was not her husband was considered adultery and punishable by death. Think about that the next time you take your friend's expensive car out for a joy ride.

Even in the New Testament, while polygamous marriage was less common, women were still the property of their husbands. Permitted to speak to other men only in very limited circumstances.

There are no instances where Jesus or any of the New Testament writers specifically define marriage as one man with one woman.This is because it is assumed that the Law of Moses (read: Old Testament) statutes still apply. If Jesus wanted to deviate from the Jewish Law - which the Jews of his time followed literally - he would have spoken directly on the matter.

There is no such thing as "the way it's always been."

Monogamous marriage has only existed as the cultural norm for the last couple of centuries. The option of choosing one's marriage partner (at least for women) has only been realized in the last 200 years.

Views on societal norms are changing, have always been changing, and will continue to change long after you and I have vacated the planet. Only 200 years ago, slavery was viewed as "the way it has always been and always will be."

There is no final destination when it comes to defining human relationships. How we define them will change as we come to understand oursevles better individually and collectively.

Why I Am (and am not) an Athiest

After a childhood of Sunday school and feeling dissatisfied with "reality" as it had been taught to me, all it took was Richard Dawkins's The God Delusion to see the world in a whole new light.

At first it was freeing, euphoric even. The world wasn't confined to the Christian apologetic arguments that didn't really prove anything anyway! More importantly, I wasn't confined to the predetermined life some all-powerful being had prescribed for me. My desires weren't sin. They were human nature, and I had every right to explore them without guilt or shame (within the ethical confines of do-no-harm of course).

But after a few years of this existential playground, I began to feel empty. In the atheist world, reason (not emotion)  is the name of the game. Everything bows to logic. There is no room for emotive human beings. We are atoms, interacting with other atoms. Emotions are irrational.

Again, I started to feel restricted. A large piece of who I am was missing from this worldview. After all, reason is not the only thing humans are capable of. Even the best of us cow to our nonsensical feelings every now and then.

While some may be able to thrive in the emotional desert that is atheism, I could not. Yet again, I wanted more. An encompassing worldview needed to include a place to emote. Maybe even to express spirituality. Does the absence of a fantasy deity remove the human capacity for (need for?) spirituality?

I like to explain my experience of spirituality as a sort of super-emotion. It exists in the realm of emotions/feelings, but it's more than just a feeling. It's also a knowing. And this knowing connects me, the individual, to Me, a tiny particle of a vast universe. Or, as Ken Wilber would call it: the Witness (Kosmic Consiousness, 2003).

As humans, it's not enough to see ourselves as rational individuals connected to our surroundings only so often as we physically bump into them. We feel we need more, because we are more. We are spiritual, despite the lack of a deity. To really be human, to understand our Buddha nature, we have to acknowledge that both sides of ourselves, the rational and the emotional, compliment and don't compete with each other.

So, yes, I am an atheist  I don't believe in the Sunday school Father in Heaven of my up-bringing. But I don't stop there. I am more than that. More than just an atheist.

Evil People?

In creating the human raceI did achieve perfection;a perfection of balancebetween the forces driving it toward good, and those driving it toward evil.+Last Testament: A Memoir by GOD 

Though this was meant as a humorous statement, most Christian doctrine would agree. Or worse, that man was created entirely evil, seeped in sin, as it were. The only way to achieve even an ounce of goodness is through God's most gracious gesture, the murder of his son. 

I would argue that it is unfair for god to expect us to be good little boys and girls when he created us balanced between good and evil. It's like saying, "Here, I've created you with only one leg, but if you really want to please me, I need you to learn to run really fast."

Not that I really believe in "good" and "evil" as concepts. It's one of the big religious paradoxes I have never been able to put on blinders to: "Here's all these enjoyable things I created and I've given you a body capable of enjoying them. But if you really love me (meaning: God), if you really want to be a worthwhile (read: holy) person, then I want you to not enjoy them." What?! Might as well ask "evil" lions to stop eating prey, or beavers to stop building dams, etc. Alright, I think I've beaten this dead horse ..

A friend of mine argued that being overly attached to ego or the physical world can make someone evil, and I used to agree. But lately I've come to see these individuals (those who embody "separateness") as more lost than anything else. Like they can't really help themselves. Of course they can, but sometimes you can be so down deep in a hole, buried under so many false ideas and information about yourself and the world, that it's too difficult to overcome on your own.

Working from a base of false information (for example a religious paradigm), you can come to some pretty "evil" seeming conclusions about what you "should" or "must" do. I remember very clearly what it's like to be down in the bottom of that hole (everyone's is unique of course), feeling like there is no possible solution, etc. So, that being said, I see so called evil people, or people who do evil things, as severely deluded about the reality of ... um ... reality.

I feel sorry for them. They can control their actions, and they still need to be held accountable for them (especially criminals and such), but until they have a paradigm shift, they won't really be motivated (not quite the right word) to act differently. They won't understand why it's the right way to act. They might simply act that way to avoid further punishment. And you really need someone (even if it's through the written word) to help you through that shift. We can't all be little Buddhas and come to enlightenment on our own. Like I said, I don't really believe in good and evil, except for when you're talking about archetypal cartoon characters. (Too much Power Rangers for me today.)

Those who are severely deluded about the nature of reality can almost be seen as acting on instinct. They are more animal that cerebral human. Simply reacting, instead of thinking. Heavy doses of religious (and other forms) of conditioning can also have this effect. Does this visceral or conditioned state of mind make someone evil? Are they ever beyond all hope? Or is knowledge -- about the universe, the self, reality -- the cure for evil, as Plato suggested?

k