Thursday, November 20, 2008

Foolish Faith


I spoke of the difference between faith and belief as being that faith emerges from a direct experience of God, which somewhat contradicts the modern idea that faith is 'belief in the absence of evidence'. People often speak of 'leap of faith', implying that one chooses to trust in the grace even though their rational mind tells them that they shouldn't, or that there is no evidence for doing so. Many times this is how faith is arrived at, often in circumstances of great peril or overwhelm where the person is faced with the knowledge that they are powerless to affect their own rescue.

Yet for this to occur there must first be some small voice within the person that impels that choice. One does not randomly 'get religious' when their fat is in the fire. People do not suddenly abandon their worldview, unless they have some inkling that there is something there. If you were hanging off the edge of the cliff you would not suddenly leap for a rope, unless you had some indication that the rope was actually present.

Everyone wants to believe that they have power in their world, particularly the power to look after themselves, this is essential for a healthy ego. However, there comes a point in every life when we discover the limitations of that power. Perhaps it is through sickness, or extreme danger, or getting old and infirm, or the inability to overcome addictions, or even through discovering that we are unable to create happiness for our self. Some people arrive at this knowledge through scientific inquiry or introspection, where they suddenly realise that the enormous complexity and order of nature is far beyond their understanding or ability to control. However it happens, at this moment there is the inevitable conclusion that some other rather awesome and intelligent force is at work in the world. This realisation - part logical conclusion, part experience, part intuitive understanding - is the foundation of faith. The knowledge that, in the words of the Kama Sutra, "things are not as they seem, nor are they different".

So what is faith? Well, I think it is simply the knowledge that there is something powerful, intelligent and benevolent driving the universe. The understanding that there is order in the apparent chaos, and that we are part of that order. What trips most people up is the idea that this 'higher power' is benevolent. How could it possibly be so when the world is full of war, destruction and inhumanity. Wouldn't a benevolent power do something about that? It's a good question, and one I could spend tomes trying to answer, without success. That's the problem - it's not until one has the experience of grace, and deepens in relationship with it, that it begins to make sense. One can't really have faith until they have faith.

Actually, arriving at faith doesn't have to involve extreme events, it requires only that we sincerely allow the possibility, but extreme experiences do make the best stories. My favourite was told to me a counsellor I went to see. She related how, as a young woman in New York, she found herself one day in a dead end alley in the wrong part of town. She was surrounded by five young men who were obviously intent on taking what they wanted and doing her harm. In that moment she realised that there was no way to escape or defend herself, she simply did not have the power to save herself from this situation.

As often happens at this moment, she surrendered, and was inspired to take a radical action. She explained to those boys that she was frightened for her safety, that she realised she was in a bad part of town and feared she would be raped and killed. She then asked these young men, who were intent on doing just that, if they would protect her and see her safely out of that area. Those five individuals proceeded to proudly escort her to her home, waiting until her door was close behind her before moving off. Years later she received a letter from the leader of that gang of boys, explaining that she had completely turned his life around. He told her that she was the first person who had ever seen him as someone capable of doing good. That day he quit the life of the street, got a job, and was now a successful man with a devoted wife and family.

I still cry every time I relate that story. Not only did she find the faith that saved her own life, she found the ability to have faith in others, to look past all the apparent evidence of evil and see the possibility of goodness. Her faith saved at least one other life from what would have almost certainly been a descending spiral into crime, drugs and early death. That is the true power of faith, the ability to look through the apparent reality to the grace that lies within, and in so doing, bring that grace forth in the world.

The picture above is the Tarot card of Strength, which represents the Kabalistic teaching on faith. The young woman, hopelessly overmatched in physical strength and ferocity, has tamed and befriended the wild lion through gentle love. She has declined to except the appearance of threat and overcome the danger though her faith in the goodness of the beast. Faith is a looking with the heart, rather than the mind, and its power is the power of God.

Why doesn't a benevolent higher power fix all the pain, hatred and violence in the world? What then would we have to do, what would make our lies meaningful, what would be the purpose of this adventure called life if not to discover who and what we truly are through our actions of love. A loving parent does not do their children's work for them, but gives them the opportunity to grow in power and maturity through setting them challenging tasks. In short, that’s our job - after all, we are the ones doing all the violence, hatred and destruction - why should God clean up our mess?

Together we rise

The Folly of Belief



Are religion and direct experience of God mutually exclusive?

You could be forgiven for thinking so.

I am not the first to note that there seems to be an inverse relationship between spirituality and religion, which means that the more religious people become the more disconnected from grace they seem to be. I say this not as a cynical condemnation of religious hypocrisy, but as a testament to the great tragedy of religion. Countless millions of people turn to religion looking for comfort, understanding and meaning. They seek the grace that others speak of. They yearn for the glory that something deep inside them clearly remembers. They seek peace, but often find only the hollowness of proscribed beliefs, or even the hatred and division of religious fundamentalism. However, many great men and women of faith have emerged from all sorts of religions, but they appear to be the exception rather than the rule.

Which leads me to the point - the difference between faith and belief. In the last blog I made reference to the difference between right and left brain thinking. This is particularly interesting in relation to matters spiritual. The left brain is the aspect of our ego mind that has the task of defining things. It gives names to everything, divides one thing from another, and allows us to distinguish the myriad purposes of objects in the physical world. This is important, it's good to know the difference between a knife and a plate, or a piece of rope and a poisonous snake. Our left brain figures out, catalogues and cross references not only things themselves, but what we believe them to be. Thus the same object can have two completely different belief systems attached to it. To one person a rifle may be the means by which they can secure food for their families. To another it may be a weapon by which they can dominate and enslave.

In this way the left brain can be considered the centre of our belief system. The important thing about beliefs is that they are polarised, meaning that we define things as much by what they are 'not' as by what they are - everything is relative to other things. By definition they define, which is to say that they divide and separate. Thus to be a Catholic is to 'not be' a Muslim, to believe differently to a Protestant, to be separate to a Pagan. Any religion that is 'taught' must be this way, because the act of teaching is one of defining. Religion says that God is 'this way', that humans are 'just so', that righteousness looks 'like this'. In any relative world view it is unavoidable that we will come to a belief about 'relative value'. For my beliefs to be valuable to me, they must be superior to others. For my beliefs to be 'true', others must be false.

There is no way to approach God from a left brain perspective that will not result in this dilemma. Trying to do so is like trying to perform surgery with a sledge hammer, it's the wrong tool for the job, and will most likely kill the patient. God is the indivisible, the all encompassing, the oneness that underlies all forms. Every great teacher will attest to the same thing, that God simply cannot be described, defined or captured with words and concepts (left brain). At best, words can simply point in that direction and intimate at the truth. In 'The Course in Miracles', Jesus says (paraphrased) that "I cannot tell you what Truth is, only what it is not".

Fortunately however, for those who may be despairing, God can be 'known'. Knowing is not a belief, or a definition or a concept - it is an experience, a living relationship with the oneness of grace. In other words, knowing cannot be done with the left brain. This is the great flaw of religion, the attempt to define God , to confine the infinite to the finite. The path of definition and belief leads only to the human experience of physical life, of separateness. Those who would know grace follow a path of experience, a path of faith. Faith is not, as popularly thought, a belief in God despite a lack of all evidence. It is the peace that comes from the direct experience of God, and it can only be had by those who are willing to abandon a slavish devotion to left brain thinking and embrace the right brain perspective on life.

The left brain defines and divides, looking for difference and separation. The right brain delves and explores, it seeks the relationship between things, the sameness and the sanctity. The left brain uses and controls, seeing a purpose to each object, a way in which it can be manipulated towards its own end. The right brain surrenders and succumbs, looking for how it might be 'used' by the greater web of life to a greater purpose. The left brain sees everything relative to itself. The right brain sees itself relative to everything else. The left brains separates, the right bonds. The left seeks individuation, the right seeks merging. And so on.

Once more, do not think that I intend to diminish the necessary and important function of the left brain in living this individuated human life. It is a wondrous creation, that is vital to the experience of creation. I say this merely to point out that if you wish to know grace, this isn't the path that takes you there. Nor do I wish to diminish the contribution and potential of religion. Religions, especially those who invoke particular practices of inquiry, have the capacity to evoke faith and direct others to the knowing of God. However, if all it offers is belief without real experience, it is a dead end that take us in exactly the wrong direction.

If we would know faith, we must abandon our beliefs. If we would know God, we need to forsake our attempt to define it. Grace exists in every moment, in everything, in every action, in every being. Indeed, grace is all there is. Anything else is just a figment of our imagination, a label, a name, a value judgement, an attempt to define and limit. If we would know grace, we need to look for what is the same in all things. But don't BELIEVE me, find your own knowing, your own faith.

Together we rise