Sometimes an accumulation of deeds-well-done is the basis upon which I attempt to understand the progress of my soul.  There is a problem, however, insofar as this way of keeping track of growth is usually not enough.  Like many people, I am made aware of my own feebleness on a daily basis.  I attempt to help bring good into the world while making sense of the choices I have made in the past.  However, worldly evils such as violence, inequality of wealth, racism, and sexism, can mix with the pains of failure, strained relationships, and feelings of being unknown and unloved by peers to create a sense of fear and disconnectedness.  Occasionally harsh self-reflection can breed resentment and despair in my life, adding to the sense of strain, exhaustion and, in turn, sadness.  My ever keening awareness of suffering sometimes makes it difficult to live a life of faith that continues to engage the real world on its terms.    Even if a person were to make all of the right choices and do all of the right things, there might still be that nagging sense of sadness.  What do we do when we go to Church, give alms, fast and satisfy our obligations to do the good things we need to do, but find that we are still confused, saddened by the world, broken and lonely? 

One way of perceiving the problem is that we might think we feel bad because of how sinful we are.  In this case, we look for something to make ourselves feel better.  We might go to confession.  If we have already done that, we might take on more works of kindness (along with the added stress) and work ourselves until we cannot work anymore.  We might say more prayers and spend more time offering up our hearts and minds so that we might legitimately claim that we are, at least, trying to know God.  Conversely, we might slip back into compulsive behavior and feed various appetites, thus proving that we are bad, powerless, sinful and in need of the saving power of Grace. 

Another way we might perceive the “problem” is as a failure of religion or formal theology.  More often than not, when religion is used to make us feel good, it proves to be inadequate.  This can be a troubling experience for some, but for others it means that they can now explore other means by which to alter the way that they feel internally!  Under these circumstances the natural human course seems to be to take up something like community service or some sort of class (pottery, creative writing, dance, etc.).  We might exercise or practice some type of meditative movement or participate in some other form of physical awareness and self-improvement.  We might do good things so that we can claim that we are at least making a contribution to society.  Or we might feed various appetites for food and sex, to a greater or lesser degree (whatever the individual finds reasonable), with little concern for consequences because life, after religion, is about quality (and many like to spell that q-u-a-n-t-i-t-y).

Truth be told, I sometimes do not see a very great difference between many people who claim to be spiritual, or atheist, or humanist, or religious, or Catholic, or Pagan, or whatever.  Regardless of a person’s take on faith, we can always practice good, old-fashioned, pragmatic, American thought: if you do not like how you feel, you can do something to change your body chemistry and the problem will go away.  It is as though we, as sentient beings, base the quality of our existence on how our bodies feel, then about how we feel about our bodies, then about how other people feel about our bodies (or whether or not they want to feel our bodies) and, at last, about how we feel about our relationship to the world (Question:  If our relationships fail, is it usually somehow blamed on one of the first three?).  With regard to our relationships, we seem to classify those in terms of whether or not we fit in with the right people.  One comes to know if a thing is good or bad by noting how much pleasure or pain is promoted by a specific act and then balancing that against how many people the act might effect.  If our chosen pursuit does not lead us to feel “good,” or at least let us think that we are progressing towards the good we think that we should want, then we will abandon it.  Religion, for many, really only seems to be important if it is working to help us achieve this shady (that is, morally dubious and objectively convoluted) goal.

The thing is, no matter how far we run we are never far from the ground of reality: we feel as we feel and, at some point, we will have to learn to be comfortable in our own skin.  Once we have done all of the good deeds and participated in all of the practices of our various religions (both theistic and atheistic), we are still left with the reality of our emotional life.  Once we have filled our senses as much as we can and thought all of the thoughts possible, we still have to accept that there is the account of the “I behind the eyes” that we are aware of each night and awaken with each morning.  Some refer to this account as one’s personal narrative.  This narrative often falls into self-judgment or appraisal, but it does not have to.  Rather, understanding one’s own narrative can be a way of coming to know God, or that in our lives which is eternal and, thus, a sign of the goodness of God.  The beauty of finding God in all things is not that we are somehow able to gauge our own worth or sense how good we are.  In truth, any criteria we have for making these judgments are going to be inadequate.  The only thing that we can keep track of is intent and effect, and even these we can only know in a limited way.  However, what we do have is a capacity to find joy in the experience of the eternal as it plays itself out in our personal stories.

I can know that God Is Good, that I am created as a good, and that I can seek to increase that good.  At the end of the day, my worth is not related to whether or not I have done enough.  I give without thought of receiving, because what I might receive in way of public accolade is not why I give.  Furthermore, the effects of my thoughts about relationships, the world, violence, sexism, racism, community life, exercise, academic pursuits and even of God, while forming my perspective, are not who I am.  I can empathize and feel compassion, without ignoring or circumventing my emotional perception, and also without attaching my sense of being to it.  I can maintain a sense of perspective that allows me to let go of all of those nagging quantifiers that cause me to grade my experience of life and judge others, while recognizing that there are things that I want to help cultivate in my own life and in the lives of others.  We learn to live as children of God, growing in his likeness and learning to love ourselves in the process of transformation.  Listening to the deep, calming voice of love, the voices of discontent, anger and desolation are silenced.  As we give, as we let go of our ways of keeping track, we find that we are transformed.  This is finding God in all things and this is to know Christ. 

No related posts.