Читать книгу I Don't Know What to Believe - Ben Kamin - Страница 8

INTRODUCTION

THIS BOOK IS WRITTEN to offer answers, direction, and validation to the many thoughtful people who feel excluded or judged because they prefer a spiritual life over what the organized religions are offering. I am a longtime rabbi, a product of institutional faith and structured liturgies. Some time ago, I came to the conviction that the church/synagogue/mosque system has essentially failed to motivate or repair the world. I realized that a critical, imaginative look at scripture actually reveals that God does not play favorites and neither should we.

In 2013, a landmark report issued by the Pew Research Center declared that Americans are more “un-churched” and less affiliated with institutions of organized religion than at any time. This was the latest charted indication of the trend toward disenfranchisement, especially among younger people, from theological centers and ideas. At the same time, all the denominations report a precipitous rise in intermarriage (over 60 percent in the Jewish community) and blended families, further diluting cultural and doctrinal differences or adding different characteristics. That same year, the New York Times reported a 45 percent interdenominational intermarriage rate among Christians (to other Christian faith sect members or to Jews and Muslims), as well as the “relatively high rates of intermarriage of American Muslims.”

The regulated religious agencies feel threatened even as there is a striking decline in people seeking to become priests, ministers, imams, and rabbis. The Catholic Church, for example, is so short-handed that recruitment literature for priestly careers is regularly found in pews and, all-too-often, untrained deacons or lay volunteers are substituting for professionally educated and trained clergy in the church and other denominations. This is creating a further disconnect, in terms of trust and performance, between members and clerics in churches, temples, and mosques. In the latter culture, sharia judges and professors are often being recruited to fill in for missing imams.

At the same time, previously rigid barriers are being broken in our society, notably in the recognition of women as clergy and, particularly, the legalization of same-sex marriage and the ordination of openly gay clergy people. This has created a deep polarization between socially conservative and liberal elements of our nation, triggering a strong backlash of superciliousness on the part of those on the right when it comes to issues such as abortion rights, prayer in schools, and whether or not this is “a Christian country.”

Those on the liberal side of the spectrum often feel ambivalent, rebellious, or just left out. They don’t want others to tell them they are “damned” if they do or don’t do this or that. They don’t want to have their parents’ faith tradition prevent them from marrying whomever they wish to marry—regardless of religion or heritage. They are disillusioned by what they feel is the increasingly sectarian nature of politics. They resent the arrogance of rabbis who marginalize women liturgically and demean Jewish denominations that are not “Torah-true”; they are weary of Christian fundamentalists; and they are wary of the evangelists. They are understandably frightened of Islamic terrorism, but don’t wish to fall into the facile route of stereotyping Muslims. They want inclusiveness and tolerance and they are turning to mysticism, ranging from the creation of post-denominational prayer centers to meditation and yoga practice to Eastern worship ideology and/or community service in place of routinized ritual and obeisance. Even those who identify as atheists want to feel connected to something.

It is my position, after over thirty-five years in the rabbinate and in social services, that what these people want is normal. They want answers about the mysteries of human life that are not canned or even discriminatory; they want a God that doesn’t judge people but for the goodness of their souls. They want to find some kindness and consolation in scriptural texts. They look at the legacy of religiously driven global war and at the financial, ethical, and sexual scandals that are rampant in organized religion, and they want something more hopeful, more tolerant, and more healing for themselves and for their children.

They need a scrupulous, honest guide to spirituality that respects the traditions but does not regard them as necessarily binding or inviolate in their lives. They want guidance in order to share their spiritual yearnings with others that make some sense against the sectarian chaos and conflict that prevails in this country. They want gentle rituals that flow within nature and that they can actually understand. They don’t want to live in a world of “all good” or “all evil” because they are sophisticated and recognize that life is nuanced. They want sensible answers, and they don’t want to feel guilty because they have questions, such as:

Why does my parents’ religion have to define me?

If I don’t baptize my child or don’t send him or her to Hebrew School, will he or she be damned to eternal punishment?

Am I God’s child even if I don’t go to religious services?

Doesn’t scripture include me in its ideology regardless of how much scripture I have learned or know?

Are all the characters in scripture saints or perfect role models?

How do I follow my own spirituality while still respecting my parents’ traditions?

One reason I know organized religion has generally failed is because it is declaring this failure itself by diverting attention from its dogmas via social gatherings, retreats, initial complimentary memberships, free food, religious rock music festivals, and a variety of other improvisations. Despite the efforts and energy invested in these venues churches and synagogues are merging or closing down, clergy are retiring early and not being replaced, and budgets are being slashed. Only the fundamentalists and zealots, the ones who maintain that it’s their way to heaven or you are going to hell, well, only they survive and dig in.

This book is not concerned with the future of churches or temples or synagogues or mosques. This book is concerned with the people out there, decent, hardworking, caring folks who want to be included in a life enriched with spiritual meaning and devoid of judgment. My hope is that they will benefit from an established religious leader telling them why and how they are as much God’s children as anybody else.

The text is not our homeland; life is. God is not to be determined; God is to be discovered—like dawn is a personal experience and the moon is seen in as many ways as there are eyes that can look up.

I have written this book after decades in the pulpit life, in one form or another, and this book is not an argument with tradition. It is an argument for transcendence. My own faith community long ago established that God created the world, but people are creating it. Not Jews—people. We human beings are God’s partners. We invented these religions, not God. The Bible starts out with absolutely no reference to creeds.

The creation story begins in a garden and the name of the first man, Adam, means “humanity.” Then Adam and his mate Eve departed the garden because they had painfully learned wisdom and awareness. Some say they were banished—much too harsh and inconsistent with the kindness of heaven, the tenderness of Jesus, or the best liturgies of any mosque or pagoda. They left because it was time for them to grow and to find a way to balance belief with reality.

This book will present several categories of belief and action that don’t belong to anybody but you. These range from the meaning of creation to the question of how to live with the Bible to what all the faiths absolutely agree upon when it comes to defining a good person. This book is not going to stop the insanity of jihad, the insensitivity of rabbinic cabals, or the extremism of Christian evangelism. It’s not going to prevent Hindus and Muslims from killing each other in India or Muslims from exterminating Coptic Christians in Egypt. This book will not bring peace to the city of Jerusalem.

This book, however, using a philosophy I call “spiritual pragmatism,” will show you how to believe in what you choose to believe and not feel tainted, condemned, or excluded. Spiritual pragmatism means knowing religion works best when it doesn’t tell you what to think, but rather to think. Nobody in the Bible who is considered a heroic figure got that way without thinking, questioning, and even doubting.

Like you and me, these men and women didn’t simply comply. They came to conclusions after life threw them some real challenges. Some days they felt good about God; other days not so much. They didn’t always know what to believe. They relied on their instincts and none of them ever held a prayer book in their hands. They did the best they could, and we acquire insight from their stories exactly because, as we shall see, each and every one of them had flaws, committed offenses, and grappled with family dysfunctions. Jesus wrestled with temptation; Moses had anger-management issues; and Mohammed betrayed a prejudice against the blind. Sarah dreamed of becoming a mother and put up with an insensitive husband. Rebekah was a deceiver, and Mary Magdalene was a seductress possessed by demons.

These people are interesting because they were hardly perfect. We learn the most from them when we realize they were real people—parents, children, spouses, friends, enemies, neighbors, and coworkers—just like you and me. The struggle to make peace with your religion is as old as the Bible and as new as today’s newspaper.