Rotten Rituals

Continuing the exploration of how religion interacts with grace.

I've been aware of the presence of God since before I can remember. I think that perhaps all children are, but they are conditioned away from it. I'm not really sure how my faith survived my childhood, given that my father was a 'committed' atheist, my mother a lapsed methodist, and my stepfather couldn't really be bothered with 'all that'. Consequently my spirituality became something of a 'private' event, observed in the moments between the times when I had to 'present' to the world. Often it was late at night when everyone else had gone to bed. I would sit up pondering the wonders I saw around me, or sneak outside to dance naked in the moonlight with the wet grass tickling the soles of my feet.

I found god in everything, the sun on my face, the feel of a horses body pressed against mine, the trusting eyes of the family dog. Hardest of all was finding God in the people around me, buried as it so often is below the layers personality and protection, but I found that I could 'look' at them in a particular way (that was more heart than mind) and the veils of ignore-ance would drop away to reveal a shining beauty. I was often criticised for my willingness to trust strangers, forgive those who mistreated me and generally refuse to engage in the social play of rejection and status games. Despite the numerous urgings to 'toughen up' and 'fight back', I could not help but see the pain being expressed in these hurtful actions. The few times I tried to heed this advise and retaliate, the pain I caused myself in the betrayal of my truth was far greater than the hurt anyone else could deal me.

However, I had one glaring advantage in maintaining my relationship to the divine, I was never exposed to religion (thanks to my atheist father). My first attendance at a religious ritual was a wedding, fairly benign if a little long. My second was a catholic christening of my nephew, which has stuck with me ever since. Not  (sadly) because the ritual was beautiful or inspiring, but because it struck me as being completely empty, a feelingness delivery of empty words. The one bright spot was the benediction by my younger sister, who's love for her nephew was the only evidence of God present.It became clear to me that ritual without true connection was a tragic blind alley and a terrible fraud. So what is ritual meant to be?

At it's best, it can be a gateway to the experience of the divine. Ritual can create a path that removes us from our everyday world filled with thoughts of problems and struggle, and lead us into an experience of our deepest truth. Rituals don't have to be spiritual either, our lives are filled with them. Going to the theatre or a movie is a ritual that many of use for exactly this purpose. Spending quality time with family, meeting our friends for a coffee or a friendly game of poker, and giving mum a call once a week (unless it's from obligation) are all examples of rituals that connect us to divine reality. Even sitting down for a cuppa, when done in the right way, can be the equivalent of a deep meditation. The things that set these apart from the hollow ranting of many religious endeavours is simply the presence of authentic presence. It is not the ritual itself, but the way in which we engage with it that provides the power and the benefit. It is not the ritual that contains grace, it is we who bring grace to it with our intention.

Simply put, rituals have the meaning and the purpose that we ascribe to them. If it is our intention to use a ritual to connect with the divine experience then literally any ritual will do. If it is not, or even worse, if we are participating in ritual from some sense of obligation, fear of divine retribution, fear of social retribution, or from the belief that the ritual itself is what holds the power, then no ritual will do the job. Meeting once a week to celebrate life, connect with grace, sing uplifting songs and enjoy the fellowship of others is a beautiful ritual - unless it's done from a sense of obligation and compliance to the demands of an oppressive religion that negates the divinity of its members. Taking ten minutes five times a day to kneel down and connect with grace is a wonderful idea (also good for the back), until its done to avoid social disapproval and punishment from the self righteous domination of self appointed 'representatives' of God.

Any ritual that negates the divinity of those performing it, or pretends that the power of grace is invested in objects, actions and words is a false one. Such rituals merely separate us form grace, diminish our sense of self, and give a non existent power and authority to those administering them. Far from connecting us to God, they trap us in an illusion of separation and unworthiness. They are simply another form of idolatry (discussed in next blog). The only useful ritual is one that reminds us to engage in some action of sincere communion.

Jesus of Nazareth instructed his disciples that 'they would be better to pray in a closet than a church'. It is going inside and finding the natural connection we all have to grace that gives us benefit, and any ritual that feels right to you is the best one. If it doesn't feel good, I say don't do it.