Religious Scholar

What’s not to hate about organized religion?

Pundits issuing orders, damning us to hell if we don’t comply.  Entire populations of humanity branded as second-class citizens, and other highly developed life forms not recognized at all.  Rules and regulations developed hundreds, even thousands of years before the advent of running water.  Obsession with political and fiscal issues that may have nothing to do with spirituality.  Special perks and secret knowledge reserved for the leadership.

Is it any wonder that thousands of intelligent people each year desert organized religion in the search for a lifestyle that values all people, other living creatures and the environment, and a kinder, gentler Deity?

But not so fast. What we may detest in organized religion isn’t so much the religion (content) as the organization (form). What we rail against is not the inspiring or comforting words of Jesus, Krishna, or Mirabai, but rather the all-too-human foibles of the people who run the store. Religious content or meaning is immanent and transcendent. But religious organizations are firmly rooted in the limitations of the world. At its worst, it’s the case of fresh new wine in tattered old wineskins.

Religious organizations excel when it comes to helping people make sense out of the Cosmos and our place in it. They provide a plan, a validated literature, a code to follow, and images to emulate. Sometimes they falter, though, because of human greed, stupidity, arrogance, or the just structural instability.

We may be so disgusted with religious organizations and the leaders who benefit from their survival that we are tempted to give up our practice, however enriching, in the search for truth and authenticity. But in doing so, we may throw out the spiritual baby with the administrative bath water. 

We need to stand back and think again:  what part of our religion do we love, what part do we loathe? Has our faith given us a taste of a higher life or a way to enrich our lives and find meaning in a seemingly chaotic world? Have we found a deep, guiding spiritual presence in our saints and gods, and in the notion of a loving Creator or Primordial Intelligence, that overshadows all the offenses we attribute to overly regulated sects run by self-satisfied satraps?

Chances are, it’s the administrative system that rubs us the wrong way. Can we find a way to accept, endure, or ignore the process and keep the spiritual power of our faith tradition? I think we can. The bath water may be foul, but the baby is bright and shining. Unplug…and hug.