Karl Marx once said that religion is the
opium of the people—it puts them to sleep so they don't do anything to lessen
their pain.
A colleague of mine at QU, Mobray Allen,
said once that, no, religion isn't a depressant, it’s a stimulant. It puts
people on steroids. They get hyped up and do wild and crazy things.
The Roman Catholic Church, my home all my
life, says that its hierarchy needs to control people so they don't do wild and
crazy things. That's a noble thought, but reality says that too many of its
hierarchy want to control people because controlling people is fun. And control
can have economic advantages.
But we need not focus on the extremes.
Religion, in less lethal doses, can alleviate pain and can add zest to life.
Religion is like music.
Music can alleviate pain and it can add
zest to life. This is so true that music is found in all kinds of cultures and
is performed in all kinds of ways.
Music and religion are not the only things
in life with such properties. Visual art, poetry, cooking, can produce such
good things. Even science can have that effect.
Recently I came across the idea that
beauty may be the best argument for the existence of God. That means that
music, art, and poetry can all be ways to experience God. Religion doesn't have
a monopoly on God.
There is much grieving among religious
professionals these days that people are deserting religious affiliations in
droves. This is especially true of our young people—at least young people in
"western" cultures. Are these young people lost?
Look at it this way. We church people have
seen ourselves as responsible for saving the world. I think we have
misinterpreted our calling. Jesus called us to "make disciples of all
nations." He didn't tell us to enroll everyone in the Roman Catholic
Church. He told us to help everyone become learners in what God is like—the
word "disciple" means "learner."
There are many ways to learn what God is
like. Surely someone whose life becomes centered on music is learning what God
is like. So is someone who mindfully speaks words from the Q'uran each day.
Of course, not everyone who speaks
religious words is learning God. Religion has its pathologies just as music
does. But the real danger for so many of our fellow humans these days is that
they are not learning about God at all. Older generations might say they are
worshipping idols. Someone whose life is focused on profit—on numbers displayed
on spreadsheets—is traveling down the wrong track. So are all the people who
seek enlightenment alone, all by themselves.
Which brings me to a crucial point. All of
these ways of learning God—religion, music, art, poetry—create relationships
with other human beings. We do all these things with and for other people, at
least most of the time.
To be "with someone and for
someone" is a fairly decent definition of love. In other words, those
things which help us be with others and for others are manifestations of love.
You shall love the Lord your God with all
your heart and all your soul and all your mind and all your strength. And you
shall love your neighbor as yourself. These two rules sum up the Law and the
Prophets.
Ivan Illich once said that the Catholic
Church lets mushrooms grow. I think of a lattice of broken machinery within
which soil settles and life emerges. The Church takes itself too seriously. Its
leaders need to get out of the way and let God work. Let life and beauty
happen. That's what salvation is.
Ever so often I am privileged to preside
at weekend Masses in parish churches. The churches are well attended. I know
that some people are there for what I consider the wrong reasons. Maybe they're
running for office and want to be seen as pious. The number of young people
there is not statistically promising. But these people are there.
And I am with them. They carry me along a little closer to God. I am blessed.
We are blessed. Mushrooms are growing.
Who am I to say that a similar thing isn’t
happening in the Lutheran church down the street or in the mosque across town?
Who appointed me God's gatekeeper?
The people we need to care for, who we
fear are missing out on salvation, are the ones who are not captivated by
beauty in their lives. The ones who are traveling alone down some path. They
are the ones who need to become disciples—learners of God.
Scientists warn us that there are
increasingly grim times ahead. We will need each other. We will need God.
Religions have always helped people get through bad times. That can delude us
into thinking that religion is only good in bad times. No. Religion, and its
siblings, music and a whole host of other beauty-creating behaviors—can bring
life to the good times too.
They can all help us learn God.
