jimrigby.org

I believe any God needing to be protected from heresy has been made up by religious hierarchy to defend dogma too weak to stand on its own.

I believe any God offended at the human condition has been concocted to frighten us into obedience to some obsolete moral code.

I believe any religion based on saving us from an invisible threat is an appeal to reason ecclipsing fear.

I believe all nondemocratic religious hierarchies are bullying garbed in big hats and velvet robes.

I believe dogma that cannot be questioned is actually superstition in sanctimonious window dressing.

I believe healthy religion does not call us to find scapegoats for our problems, but to present ourselves as living sacrifices for the common good.

I believe true “saviors” do not call us to love and serve themselves but to find the greatness within our own hearts to recognize our kinship with all humankind and the web of life.

I believe the exclusiveness to which true religion calls us is not loyalty to any one sect, but commitment to universal love and justice.

For many, patriotism and religion are a kind of disguised narcissism.

Narcissistic patriots may praise America, but feel no obligation to care for its people or to protect its lands. They may wave the flag and rejoice in the military, but it is glory and power they really love, not their country.

Narcissistic religionists may praise Jesus, or whatever being they worship, but their prayers make it clear that religion is a way of cajoling divine power to protect and serve themselves. However much they may praise their “God,” it is themselves they truly worship.

The problem with only loving ourselves is that we are going to die. Such self love therefore brings about inevitable fear and disappointment. Only by loving all of life and nature can our love of self find fulfillment in the larger common life..

While we love only our own small lives, we are holding onto ashes. Narcissistic religion is like loving a reflection of ourselves in a mirror. Such self absorption will never really meet our needs, never lead us to meaningful lives, never give us the experience of truly loving another being.

As Jesus said, if we hold onto our lives we will surely lose them. One does not have to be traditionally religious to understand there is something deeper within us than our social selves. When we observe the web of life, or the cosmic process, something deep within us stirs. The happiness we seek in life is not our luggage. We are vessels for IT. Knowing this, we are wise to give ourselves fully, joyfully and with abandon to the pulse of life within our deeper being.

The stream that will not empty itself becomes stagnant and cut off from its source. Only by “dying” from our smaller lives into a deeper and larger love can we find what the life within us is seeking to find.

If mystics use the word “God” at all they use it as a symbol of a deeper larger mystery. Whatever is meant by the symbol “God,” Van Gogh was right:

“The best way to know God is to love many things.”

Here in Austin you get the pleasure to meet a lot of remarkable people, not the least of which for me was Molly Ivins. Molly was a fearless journalist who regularly took on the vested power and wealth on behalf of those who weren’t being heard. She always seemed to do so with a sophisticated intelligence and with an almost surgical sarcasm.

A lot of Molly Ivins fans wish she were here to guide us through the Trump years, but if Molly saw the gathering storm clouds in America very clearly. It seems to me she left us with plenty of insights for what she saw as the coming struggle. Here are 9 bits of Molly’s wisdom you may find helpful:

“When politicians start talking about large groups of their fellow Americans as ‘enemies,’ it’s time for a quiet stir of alertness. Polarizing people is a good way to win an election, and also a good way to wreck a country.”

“Listen to the people who are talking about how to fix what’s wrong, not the ones who just work people into a snit over the problems. Listen to the people who have ideas about how to fix things, not the ones who just blame others.”

“The trouble with blaming powerless people is that although it’s not nearly as scary as blaming the powerful, it does miss the point. Poor people do not shut down factories… Poor people didn’t decide to use ‘contract employees’ because they cost less and don’t get any benefits.”

“How the American right managed to convince itself that the programs to alleviate poverty are responsible for the consequences of poverty will someday be studied as a notorious mass illusion.”

“Whenever you hear a politician carry on about what a mess the schools are, be aware that you are looking at the culprit.”

“On the whole, I prefer not to be lectured on patriotism by those who keep offshore mail drops in order to avoid paying their taxes.”

“It is possible to read the history of this country as one long struggle to extend the liberties established in our Constitution to everyone in America.”

When I knew only my own religion, I thought my savior was the only child of God. When I learned from other religions, I realized every sentient being is to be loved like a one and only child of our common source.

When I knew only my own religion, I believed my group had been specially chosen to save the world. When I learned from other religions, I understood we are all cells in one body and so we are all “chosen” to SERVE the world.When I knew only my own religion, I thought God was male.

When I learned from other religions, I realized only my religion’s WORD for God is male. Our cosmic source is beyond binary gender and thus can be expressed by love in all its many ethical forms.When I knew only my own religion, I believed prophecy meant predicting the future.

When I learned from other religions, I realized that prophecy is understanding the future implications of our current actions.

When I knew only my own religion, I believed the “Word of God” was found on the ink spots of the pages of my religion’s holy book. When I learned from other religions, I realized the “Word”refers, not to any one scripture, but to the creative principle behind them all.

When I knew only my own religion, I thought “salvation” meant being lifted to a gated community of people just like me. When I learned from other religions, I realized “salvation” means finding a love big enough to encompass us all.

I am hearing a lot of talk of “common sense” from the MAGA movement these days. The gist of the argument is that the consensus of those with cultural privilege provides a kind of measuring rod of all sane thought. Because the voices of the poor or marginalized people seems strange to the privileged majority they are considered divisive almost by definition. The voice of those excluded are seen as a kind of assault on the majority because they disrupt the consensus of the privileged group to which one happens to belong.

Einstein had to fight “common sense” dismissal of his new theories. They made no sense within the old consensus and, therefore, violated the assumptions people already had. He concluded, “Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen.”

Rene Descartes, who some describe as European philosophy’s bridge into modern thought, also had to struggle against dismissal by lesser minds:

“Common sense is the most widely shared commodity in the world, for everyone is convinced they are well supplied with it.”

It seems to me the ancient philosophic opiate of “common sense” is being used to shut down any justice claims for the poor, for LGBTQ persons, or even for the inconvenient truths of science. If new ideas violate the consensus of the people who count as real Americans, they can and should be disregarded.

“Common sense” arguments often propose a privileged group whose experiences count, and an outside group whose claims can be ignored in the name of unity. We need to ask ourselves a question, “what does the word “unity” mean in a time of injustice?”

It seems to me that many of us who live in comfortable privilege desire a unity where we all get along, and where no one brings up discrepancies of power and possession. To that end, books must be removed from public schools if they cause a disturbance in the “common sense” arguments MAGA people have inherited from their patriarchal, white supremacist and capitalist roots.

Because such a consensus cannot actually stand before the light of reason, it must be protected under the suffocating shade of the term “common sense.”

I want unity as much as anyone. By nature, I am conflict avoidant, but I think it is important to stand with anyone being bullied. The wounded feelings of the privileged do not belong on the same ethical scale as the broken hopes and bodies of the oppressed.

Can there be true unity without justice? Should the enslaver and the enslaved “just get along” or does the enslaved have rights that transcend the “common sense” logic of any unfair political or economic system? Can there be true unity in a patriarchal or Gay bashing nation, or must justice proceed any legitimate concept of unity?

I am quite aware of my biases and limitations, which is precisely why I say we must insist on a common standard of human rights that transcends personal, sectarian or economic standards. I believe we ALL need to decide which human rights are essential for human beings to live lives of dignity, and then I believe we must offer those same rights to everyone with no exceptions.

Furthermore, I believe we people of privilege need to leave the echo chambers of our numb consensus and listen to the cries of those crushed under the tonnage of the self righteous indifference many label as “common sense.”

As a minister, I take abusive Christianity very personally. While I believe religion can be a beautiful thing, I must also confess the kind of Christianity we often witness in public is more likely to be a problem for humankind than a gift. Here are 9 of my least favorite clichés I hear from my Christian colleagues.

1. “GOD NEVER GIVES US MORE THAN WE CAN HANDLE”

When someone is feeling crushed by life, it can be very difficult to honor their pain and fear. It might seem helpful to say, “God never gives us more than we can handle” but, to someone in pain, it can also feel like we Christians are more protective of our theology than of our wounded friend. Life isn’t always fair. Sometimes, people just need us to sit with them in their pain. We cannot do that and also try to paste their lives together with our own theological duct tape.

2. “HATE THE SIN, LOVE THE SINNER”

When Gandhi originally said this, I suspect he meant we should remember to love human beings no matter how painful their words or deeds might be. It is one thing to say ‘love the oppressor, hate the oppression,” but it is something else to say “love the LGBTQIA+ person, but hate their deepest emotions and loves.” That’s like saying “love the bird, hate the feathers.” Whenever we fall into inflexible abstract ethics about other people someone is about to get plucked.

3. “EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON”

When I first began working with survivors of sexual assault, I was astounded by the fact that almost all of them had been taught to blame themselves. It seems we would rather blame ourselves than accept the fact that much of life is outside our control. It is important to understand that life can be terribly unfair. It really doesn’t help a survivor of trauma to have to invent some kind of lesson their pain is supposed to be teaching them. A lifetime of ministry has convinced me that, while we can learn something from almost anything that happens to us, still, terrible things are not sent into our lives to teach us a lesson. Sometimes, bad things just happen.

4. “THE MIRACLES IN THE BIBLE PROVE THAT GOD EXISTS”

Many Christians roll their eyes when they hear the miracles described by other faiths. We should realize that it feels just as ridiculous when we use our own scripture as evidence for our beliefs. The biblical witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection are no more convincing to an outsider than are Odysseus’ shipmates that Poseidon rules the waves.

5. “BIBLICAL MARRIAGE”

The trope “Biblical marriage” is an incredibly dishonest cliché. The Bible has marriages that include rape, polygamy, impregnated slaves and the casting out of inconvenient wives and children. The lessons to be gathered from the various versions of “biblical marriage” are a.) that we must be very flexible when it comes to sexual ethics, and b.) that forcing one sexual code on everyone can be the spiritual equivalent of a gang rape.

6. “WE NEED TO PUT GOD BACK IN SCHOOLS”

The idea that God is letting school shootings happen because the religious right is not able to dominate the public sector is incredibly toxic. Again, if Jesus is to be believed, the heart of Christianity is being a good neighbor. It is an obvious fact of history that when ANY religion gains domination over a nation’s political structure it becomes deadly. Theocracy becomes deadly first for its enemies, then for its nation, and, ultimately, its cruelty cuts the heart of that religion itself.

7. USING “CHRISTIAN” AS A SYNONYM FOR “ETHICAL.” Religion is always risky business. Any form of Christianity that deems itself as good by definition will quickly fill up with narcissists whose praise of Jesus is actually a disguise for their own inflated egos and false sense of superiority.

8. “GOD MUST HAVE NEEDED A LITTLE ANGEL IN THE CHOIR…”

Some Christian funerals have the most brutal and cruel clichés one will ever hear. One of the most common clichés used in funerals is that God must have needed the deceased person for some purpose in heaven. It’s fine if adults want to say such things tongue and cheek, but, when there are grieving parents or bewildered siblings in the room we have to consider how the idea that God kills people to use them in heaven might complicate the grieving process for many left behind who loved them.

9. AND, FINALLY, “ANY PRAYER GIVEN IN THE NAME OF JESUS TO A MIXED CROWD”

Again, Jesus summarized his teachings as being a good neighbor. There is nothing Christlike about forcing Jesus on others. If Christian clergy’s compassion has not grown enough to include everyone in the room, they should not be leading a service in mixed company. Prayer requires consent. Clergy are not mature enough to lead community gatherings until their love is big enough to include Christian and non-Christian equally.

The summer I graduated from high school I was involved in a car wreck that left me with amnesia. I could not remember what had happened that day. I looked down at my clothes trying to remember who I was and what had happened that day.

Far from being an unpleasant experience, my brief encounter with amnesia was mildly euphoric. I looked at each person and each object as though I had never seen them before. I looked at street lamps as radiant art objects in a museum. Without a context, every thing I looked upon seemed strange and fascinating.

The insight I gained from that experience was captured in the words of French writer, Marcel Proust, who once said, “My destination is no longer a place, rather a new way of seeing.” My car accident had been a free master class in meditation. I had begun to realize there is a vast empty space between our thoughts and that when we look out at the world from that still spot we experience everything is miraculous.

My memory of the time I forgot now informs my understanding of religion:

It seems to me being “born again” is no further away than when we stop looking at the present through the lens of the past. Religion is not trying to recapture a mythic past, just to enter THIS moment fully.

“Be still and know I am God” now says to me that the sacred is never further away than a quiet mind and heart.

The words “you are the light of the world” now say to me that each of us is the universe come to life. Our awareness itself, not our sectarian dogmas, illumines our world and allows us to share the life together.

In you, the reader of these words, the universe has come to consciousness. You do not need to look for a miracle more wonderful than that. If you but look at the world with new eyes your search for meaning will be over. You will realize that you and everything around you are the miracle.

Many people avoid the word “God” because the symbol is so easily misunderstood. Everyone means something a bit different by the word. It is always important not to fall asleep into religious argon. Religious language is a poetic attempt to capture in words what can often only be experienced in silence.

Whatever our source of being is, it is beyond the verbs and nouns of human thought. Words may lead us to the threshold of this experience, but only silence can truly experience reverence before a fitful ocean or starry night.

When biblical poetry said, “Be still and know that I am God,” perhaps it was reminding us that the word “God” is a symbol, not an idea or definition. The symbol “God” is a place marker reminding us there is always a mysterious infinity between our clearest distinctions, something infinitely deeper than our most profound value, and something infinitely larger than our vastest understanding

Language is incredibly important when it comes to communication but we must never forget that reality is a place language cannot quite go.

To reduce the symbol “God” to a mental image means to lose the awestruck experience to which the symbol may refer. The symbol refers not to a belief but to an awareness, not to linguistic understanding but to a sense of awe most reverently expressed by silence.

The Persian poet Rumi had a teacher named Shams Tabrizi who made this point very well I think:

“Most of the problems of the world stems from linguistic mistakes and simple misunderstandings. Don’t ever take words at face value. When you step into the zone of love, language as we know it becomes obsolete. That which cannot be put into words can only be grasped through silence.”

We often hear conservative clergy describe scientists and Atheists as people who “hate God.” If we think about this notion, even for a minute, we would realize how silly it is.

You can’t really hate something if you believe it doesn’t even exists. Most Christians don’t hate Zeus, we just don’t believe in him. There certainly are some people who leave the simplistic religion of their youth with a chip on their shoulder and, for a time, remain mad at God for not existing. Such people can be obsessed with attacking their former beliefs and in rejoicing in disillusioning people who still believe. This, however, is a very small minority of Atheists.

Most Atheists simply don’t find the symbol “God” helpful. What they “hate” is the pain and damage caused by superstition and sectarian ethics. Religions of love should want our faith to be purged of these impurities as well.

“Faith” isn’t when we hold onto the last shards of our religious teachings in spite of overwhelming facts. Faith is not protecting yesterday’s understanding from the bright light of honest criticism. Faith is the courage to willingly offer our beliefs into the thirsty flames of reason and science because we trust the Phoenix of hope will arise from the ashes of our former certainties.

A religion that has to be protected from hard thoughts will probably be of little help in hard times. Religion that crumbles before a good argument will probably be a leaking vessel as we lay dying.

The word “Atheist” is actually a theological word. It sounds like a negative philosophy, only because we are looking through a theologically narcissistic lens that measures others by itself. Most Atheists are not best understood by the fact that they don’t use our religious symbol “God.” The overwhelming majority of Atheists are best defined by their positive values- like naturalism, humanism and intellectual honesty.

If we are wise we will appreciate the harsh light Atheists bring to the haunted caves of our unexamined beliefs. A religion of love recognizes loving Atheists as allies not enemies. Only such radical honesty prevents religion from becoming a passion deadening sedative for the heart and a incurious straight jacket for the mind.

To be clear, I’m not saying we should reduce religion to what can be scientifically proven. The universe was not designed for humans and so neither our senses nor our reason can pierce the veil of reality beyond a certain point. Surely humankind will discover much much more about the universe, but we are simply too small and limited to understand it all. Faith is not waiting until all the information is in before we begin to live. Faith is not pretending to have a clear understanding of life. Faith is trusting in life in spite of its ambiguity and enormity. Faith cannot be reduced to belief in God, nor in salvation, nor in anything else. Faith is simply the intuitive sense that one is at home in the universe because one is an expression of the universe. Whereas belief is holding onto what we want to be true, faith is often an empty handed trust that we can be totally honest and still find love and meaning in our lives.Faith is our trust in life and love, not our belief in religion. Love wants to know the beloved. Science and reason are crucial filters to ensure that we are loving real people and real life and not just our invented beliefs about them.