In Search for Spirituality

I was born to a Jewish father and a Christian mother.  I’m the child of two faiths, two cultures.  Growing up Christian, I remember moments of crisis.  I remember as a small child questioning the notion of God and being quite upset about it.  My father said my fears and angst were a sign of my faith – without it, my questions would not bother me.  In short, it is appropriate to question.  Today, I question again. 

I’m a Christian but I find no comfort in the faith, no spirituality.  Going to church today is to be subjected to a cacophony of noise.  There is no silence or time for reflection and contemplation.  Most churches are saddled with bands and speakers, ministers who are over-demonstrative and emotional, standing amidst screens with rolling graphics and words.  Through the din, it is impossible to connect with God.  It is likely churches have never been this way (it is a “service” after all) but certainly, the capacity for spirituality and connection has grown dimmer in recent decades.  In the noise, there is also desperation as the faith seeks to find members from an increasingly distracted generation.  

It has been said and practiced by many, across cultures and faiths, that reflection and quiet contemplation leads to strength.  The more one studies and the more one reflects, the stronger one grows.  In this practice, there is an activism toward empowerment.  However, some of today’s Christians seem to have gone in a different direction.  Many churches do not encourage the bringing of the Bible – the written explanation of the faith.  Some Christians sing overly emotive songs and look pleadingly to the heavens, in some cases with tears in their eyes and hands in the air.  Adherents to this practice might call this a sort of spirituality but it is only a passive attempt to search for it.  In doing so, I’ve always looked upon this as weak.

In my study, I see something strong in my faith, something empowering.  However, the way some practices are done seem to truncate that trait.  I’ve wondered what a church service would look like were we able to actively and spiritually approach our faith.  I’ve imagined a church with two rooms.  One room is for quiet prayer and meditation.  Buddhists say that only this can strengthen and correct the mind.  The other room is for reading and studying, discussion and debate.  In one room, one actively strengthens their faith through a pursuit of connectedness.  In the other room, it is done through a pursuit of knowledge and wisdom.  Unrealistically, it would do away with the “service” as we know it today.

The problem for me is that my type of church doesn't exist.  Historically, Christians have never done this.  Perhaps, my troubles are only my own but I don’t think so.  I would love to feel comfortable in a church however, in recent decades, the outside world and the things from which the church is to help us find solace now rests within the walls.  It says in Romans, Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.  Yet, I cannot find a church that has not been unalterably transformed by the world around them and the so-called necessities of reaching modern audiences.  Instead of showing these Christians the way to connect with God, these churches have conformed to the demands of how the congregants want to worship.  Sadly, it is not worship at all, certainly nothing with spirituality in accompaniment. 

Perhaps, I’m destined to seek my own path.  I don’t mind that and often, I prefer it.  However, it would also be nice to find those of similar disposition. 

The One Truly Philosophical Problem

There are some topics that are hard to discuss – not so much because the topic is difficult but the readers have no frame of reference.  For example, how can an American audience relate to the selling of children into prostitution because it brings money in for the family?  How can an American audience relate to the killing of government opposition in order to quell dissatisfaction?  Even more difficult is suicide as protest.  Sadly, Americans have plenty experience with suicide but only as it relates to mental illness – not as a form of protest from one of “sound mind and body.”  There was an interesting article in Foreign Policy on the psychological components of a suicide protestor, highlighting differences between sanguinary and communicative objectives but it is fair to also consider the effectiveness of the tactic.

My article is not a moral argument but more a practical one.  The two main types of suicide as protest (as also highlighted in the article) are suicide bombers (sanguinary) and suicide by self-immolation (communicative).  While both profess to do the same thing (attempt to alter a present condition through self-sacrifice), they are radically different in their approaches and in how others perceive the acts. 

The suicide bomber is largely seen negatively from a western mind-set because the protest involves the death of others (typically, innocents) and the motives are not always pure.  Studies done on the subject show that seldom are these “martyrs” ideologues.  Though these acts are not approved of, they are effective.  Suicide bombings have changed the course of European governments and have compelled them to accept what was generally considered antithetical to their beliefs.  Examples include Spain’s quick withdrawal from Iraq after the Madrid bombings and the condemnation over cartoons depicting Muhammad negatively instead of defense of free speech.  It would be one thing if these governments presented an argument that defined their policies separate from the bombings, especially in the case of Spain, but more typically, the hope is that by deferring they can avoid the possibility of bombings in their country. 

Never mind that we are talking about European countries and other western democracies responding to the actions and beliefs of a few, but ultimately, it might not matter.  Consider the recent violence between Israelis and Hamas.  The Palestinians fire rockets from schools, hospitals and other civilian centers.  They admit this in press conferences.  When Israel responds, world news outlets characterize the measure as brutal and criminal.  When Palestinian and Hamas leadership say they “must” fire from these locations, no one challenges their near-complete lack of rationale nor challenges their assertion that in the same breath, they blame the Israelis for killing their civilians.  This is in conjunction with suicide bombers sent into Israel but the actions are the same.  The use of sacrifice to make and implement a point but on a much larger scale than an individual bomber.  The sacrifices are working as Palestinians are gaining in international support. 

On the other hand, we see a recent uptick in self-immolation by Buddhist priests, a resurgence of an old tactic from the Viet Nam War era.  The most famous of these suicide protests was done by Vietnamese monk Thích Quẚng Dức in protest of the Ngo Dinh Diem government in the South in 1963.  These measures, most recently seen in Burma and Tibet, are universally admired and register with people because of the self-sacrifice, without other casualties, against a repressive regime.  There is also something to the pain and suffering that goes into the sacrifice, separate from the instantaneous and otherwise painless sacrifice of suicide bombers.  There is also a widely held belief that the sacrifice is being done by one much more aware and dedicated to their cause.  However, they are the least effective.  Neither the South Vietnamese government nor the more modern Burmese government was shaken by the protests and it was not what brought down these regimes.  Tibet activists have made little headway against China though they have gained world-wide support. 

What we hate, we respond to and what we appreciate, we ignore.  Part of this is due to China’s prominence in world affairs, as opposed to many Middle Eastern countries who largely play little economic role internationally.  With each suicide bomber, we witness the death and destruction and, for some, there is a permanent change in the perception of Islam as a faith of extremism.  To make matters worse, we validate and value that perception by how we respond.  We back away from time-honored liberties and rights while twisting our world view to accept the paradigm of terrorists.  In doing so, we also give no help to those who seek to right the ship and take back the core of Arab and Islamic values.