More Musings by Oven Mitt

Oven Mitt emailed me this response to Freethinker, concerned that it was too long for the comment section. I am publishing it here as its own post. (Readers, please consider submitting a guest post on any topic. Challenge our thinking!)

Left to Right: Frank Zappa, Oven Mitt

Dear "Freethinker,"
Thank you for your very thoughtful reply. You say "The vast majority are placing their faith in the 'confirmed reality' of the Bible." On one level, I would concede your point. In a way, if you were to poll people, statistically speaking, what you say about the majority is perhaps true. But only in a way.

One consideration is that in every faith tradition there are people (who are not the majority) who are deeply spiritual, for whom every element of their lives is informed by religious meaning and who are better people for it. But there are also, in every faith tradition, I think, individuals who relate to their tradition as a way to stay out of trouble and solicit good luck. Often, this takes on the flavor of a transaction, of something like commerce:

If you, the worshiper, do this (where "this" could be pray, offer sacrifices on an altar, give to the poor), then I (the fabric of the universe, or the god of my profession, or the unique and all-powerful god) will make your flocks flourish, or get you a raise, or save your soul.

Several years ago, on the bus I rode to work, there was a fellow rider who was an immigrant to the United States, who didn't speak English well but loved to talk. As I got to know this rider better, I found her to be kind, considerate of other people's ideas, and possessed of a prodigious desire to work. A good person. She was telling me one morning about New Year’s rituals in the her family, rituals that came out of a religious tradition. These rituals were for luck and prosperity. "Only for luck?" I asked. She gave me a look that said, "What? What other reason would you have for a ritual?"  My question was apparently uunnerving, even absurd. And yet she had been formed in this tradition and was a good person, perhaps even an excellent person. 

This fellow rider lived a life informed by a religious tradition, didn't seem particularly pious, and thought of rituals as a try for luck.

For such an arrangement with the divine to work, the other party has to be real. If you are doing a deal, the other side has to exist; you want to be able to do this deal, so you insist on the reality of the divine other. 

I don't know of a religious tradition that doesn't have this aspect.

Another important thing to keep in mind is that, whether the individual is a luck seeker or an oceanic devotee, he or she is almost always raised in a particular tradition. Not so long ago, there was effectively no option for the vast majority of people to adopt or explore other faith traditions—children belonged to the church of their parents. So, given whatever kind of person you are—practical, full of heartfelt feeling, whatever—the overwhelming likelihood is that you are going to express your religious or spiritual life in terms of the tradition you were brought up in. Nowadays, people do migrate out of the traditions they were born into, but this is a very modern thing. Martin Luther (or Laestadius for that matter) wasn't a devout Christian because he had compared Islam and Christianity and Buddhism and found Christianity to be the best. He was a devout Christian because he was devout and he happened to be Christian.

I think there is a feeling in all the faith traditions that, if you give yourself over wholeheartedly to the faith, you will find release and ultimate fulfillment. And part of what you give yourself over to is that foundational deal with the divine. You don't want to be denied the opportunity to fulfill that deal (whether you are looking for salvation or just better luck), so outsiders who question your faith pose a threat. But there is always the possibility of a threat from within your belief community as well.

You can be shunned. You can be excommunicated. You can be exploited in any number of ways and kept within the community so long as you accept certain things or accept certain things being done to you. For this reason, religious authority, whether formal or informal, although it can be and often is used wisely, is extremely dangerous.

Religion is dangerous.

Extremely dangerous, but many things we use every day are extremely dangerous. We use kitchen knives. We let our teenage children drive automobiles. These things can be used responsibly and to great benefit, but they can also be used in ways that harm. Life is full of things that are hazardous and that involve leaps of faith: Join the army. Get married. Have a baby. Start your own business. Any of these things can be intoxicating, and any of them can be disastrous. And religious involvement is not different. What is different is that religious involvement, because it usually starts so young, is done with less knowledge of what you're getting into.