Spiritual conversations should not be taboo
By Elliot Chan, Opinions Editor
I’m getting older in a secular society—or at least one that acts that way. I’m not sure if I’m simply surrounded by intellectuals who deem themselves unreligious, or if those who do have faith don’t wish to speak critically with me about it. I fear that the polarizing attitudes towards religion are causing a lot of built-up tension between us, and that the don’t-ask-don’t-tell approach to our spirituality is causing more prejudice than we would care to admit. While we have become more open-minded with scientific discovery, cultural differences, and sexuality, we are still placing unfair judgement on those who have religious faith.
“I’ve felt it,” is a common reply I receive when I question someone’s religious belief out of curiosity, “you haven’t.” I feel a bit of shame when I get such a response, as if I’ve done something wrong, or I’m simply undeserving of the specifics. Perhaps both are true. Yet more often than not, the response seems to come from a defensive place, as if I doubt their values by questioning their faith. Which also might be true.
If I continue to probe for more details, the conversation becomes more heated and contentious. It becomes an argument. Why is that? Why can’t we have an honest debate about religion today? Why do we still have our feelings hurt?
When I ask questions about religion or about one’s spirituality, it’s not my goal to disprove them. I understand that it’s not a science experiment. It’s pretty clear now that nobody can disprove God.
What I want to find out is why my dear religious friends and families, who I share so many similarities and interest with, cannot see eye-to-eye in this one particular area of life. I want to know why the concept of heaven can bring comfort to one group of people, while the concept of reincarnation can bring comfort to another. I want to know why some religions demand celibacy, while others nurture freewill. Yet when I ask these questions, I’m often met with contempt.
On some occasions, I am welcomed into churches and temples to partake in rituals I know nothing about. I ask those around me what the process is all about, and the answer is usually “just because…” It’s a tradition. And that seems like a valid reason for religions to continue existing. It binds those with faith to a comfortable constant. The real world might be changing, but there is at least this one—albeit irrational—thing that’ll keep them grounded. It’s comforting.
It makes me smile when I see someone truly believe in something. I surely don’t have the same discipline. I’m easily swayed with logic and evidence, with lust and jealousy. That doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. That just mean I’m not religious… or even spiritual.
Here is an example: I want to ask those who have withheld their virginity until marriage how they do it. How do they defy temptation? How do they even exist in this live-for-the-moment society? I want to ask these questions so that I can understand myself. I want to understand my own belief system. I want to be convinced. Yet, all I am at the moment is intrusive.
