Anyway, now that that is out of the way, on to business!
There are some big questions that everyone tries to seek the answer to in this world. What happens after death? What is the meaning of life? Do soul mates exist? How many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop? I'm going to now ramble about one of those big questions that I've been thinking about lately: religion.
I've been on the fence about this for the majority of my life. I was baptized when I was a baby into some form of Protestantism; however, growing up, I only went to church when my Grandparents took me and my brother, usually about once a year. Even then, I saw going to church as a chance to hear some pretty music, not as a chance to learn about and develop a relationship with some form of higher power. You see, my parents aren't very into organized religion, so it's just not something that was a major part of my life as I was growing up.
And you know what? I was okay with that for a very long time. Religion and God just weren't a part of my life, never had been, so I never noticed that something was missing. I mean, I knew a lot of the new friends I made at school were religious and very involved with the church community. That was their choice, though; it just wasn't something that affected me. I got invited along often, but I declined in as polite of a way as possible.
Then, this past Fall term at school, I hit a bit of a rough patch. I felt alone and hopeless, and nothing that I did was helping. I just wanted to curl up in a ball under the covers all of the time. My friends didn't really understand, not that I told the majority of them; I didn't want to burden anyone with my issues. Instead, I threw myself into school and activities to distract myself. When I finally worked up the courage to go to the Wellness Center to ask to see a counselor (which is a LOT harder than it sounds), they simply asked if it was an emergency, and when I said no, handed me a pamphlet with a number to call to find a therapist in the area. Apparently, our school no longer offers counselling to people who need someone to talk to unless they're either medically diagnosed with insert chosen mental disorder here or are willing to admit that they are on the verge of committing suicide. I never worked up the courage to call that number.
Then, one day at Dance Club, my friend Owen asked me if I wanted to come to Bible Study the next day. I was about to give him the "no thanks" line I had perfected over the years when I reconsidered. I was willing to try something new to help, even if it involved getting up at a ridiculously early hour of the morning. When I went, one of the girls there gave me her Bible to read (since I didn't have one) and then spent the time talking with me about Christianity and God and Jesus and why I was there. I admit it - I cried a little that morning when I was telling her the Cliff notes version of my issues, just because it felt good to finally be doing something about it.
I kept going to Bible study (when I woke up early enough) and to group meetings for the rest of that term. The thing I loved the most about those meetings was the music and the camaraderie - when singing hymns, I just felt this... fullness rising up in me. I felt like I wasn't alone anymore. It gave me hope, however fleeting it was. Going to Cru probably stopped me from going insane that term, and I am forever thankful for that.
And yet, I still wasn't sure about what I believed. I almost felt like a fraud there, singing praises to the Lord, when I wasn't even sure he existed. It was part of the reason why I never ended up going to church with them - I always felt like I would be defiling the place with my lack of conviction, especially since my friends were so passionate about their faith.
It's just... there are some things that I just don't understand about Christianity. For example, why is it only people who accept Jesus Christ in their lives that get to go to heaven? Should intrinsically good people (say, for example, Gandhi) be denied a lifetime in paradise just because they believe something different while people who may not be as good of people get entrance because they accept Him? Furthermore, how does Jesus dying absolve people of their sins? That doesn't make sense.
I probably should add a disclaimer here that I totally and completely respect a person's right to believe in whatever they want in whatever manner he/she wants to. This is not meant to be a judgement on anyone's personal beliefs; this is solely just what I have been thinking based on my extremely limit research and experience into the field.
Now that I'm not in a place where I'm desperately clinging to any hope that I might actually be happy again (yay for introspective work terms making me sane again!), I've started to readdress the concept of religion again, this time from a more broad perspective than simply Christianity. I will blatantly state that I have absolutely no idea whether or not God exists, much less which religion has the right version.
Recently, though, I've been wondering if it really matters. I've been reading a book I got for Christmas: The Great Transformation: The Beginning of Our Religious Traditions by Karen Armstrong. It's about the history of religion; specifically, the section I've read so far deals with the people of the Axial Age (i.e. Confucius Buddha, Socrates, and Jeremiah) who had a far different outlook on religion than we do as a society today. In fact, these sages didn't really hold with the concept of a religion. Theology was completely unimportant and a matter of one's personal beliefs. Instead, their teachings were about living a compassionate life, and how living such a life would lead to the fulfillment that one sought. There one passage that really exemplifies their opinions.
The only way you could encounter what they called "God", "Nirvana", "Brahman," or the "Way" was to live a compassionate life. Indeed, religion was compassion.
Their goal wasn't to make people feel good and make a connection with a higher power; instead, they wanted to mold people into spiritual beings full of empathy and compassion, and that is how one lives a fulfilling life.
I'm very taken with this concept. Nonviolence, compassion, love - these are all traits I try to embrace in my life. I don't always succeed, but no one is perfect. Nonetheless, living this idealized life of compassion is the life I want to live.
It doesn't matter if I do this while worshiping a specific God or concept; indeed, parts of this mantra are encompassed in many religions. What matters most is that I'm compassionate towards people. What matters is that I try to do no harm. What matters is that I try to be a good person.
That's a fulfilling enough of a life for me.
