Jobar
Zen Hedonist
This is from a thread I started back in 2002, which I titled "The good side of religion".
On Saturday, Nov. 23, my family gathered to bury the ashes of my oldest first cousin, David.
There were 21 people who were either born or are presently Barneses at the small Methodist church in Durand, an unincorporated town- little more than a wide spot in the road. My family has had a lot in the cemetery behind the church since the nineteen twenties- my grandfather and grandmother, an uncle and two aunts, and three (now four) cousins are there. All the stones have Barnes engraved on them.
It was a fine day, and my father had asked Bob, the pastor of the nearby Warm Springs Baptist Church, to say a few words- even though he did not know David, he has been a friend of my parents for many years now, and spoke with my father for many hours about my deceased cousin. As you might expect, I was prepared to endure a sermon in silence- but much to my surprise, it was not the trial I expected.
Bob spoke of the love of my uncle and aunt, and of the children they had. He spoke of the good things my cousin had done- his painting, and his poetry, and his singing at the Savannah Cathedral where he was a choir member for many years. He told tales of my cousin's visits to the farm where I grew up as a boy, where he often spent whole summers when I was young and he was in his late teens and early twenties (David was 12 years older than I.) Bob spoke of his battles with depression, and his lifelong mediocre health.
And though he did add an occasional 'God blessed' and 'thank the Lord' and other preacherspeak, almost all his eulogy was completely secular, and very moving. One of his main points was that we were there to talk about David- and that since every one of us would one day be talked about in the same way, it was a good idea to live our lives so that the eulogizers at our gravesides would have lots of good things to say!
Even his final prayer was based on Ecclesiastes- 'To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.'
I counted only three times when comments were made to the effect that 'he's gone to a better place now'- and perhaps it was just me, but they all seemed rather strained and artificial. David's funeral- memorial service actually, as he died in late September, and was cremated and his ashes were interred beside his parents- could have been shortened by fewer than a hundred words, and then would have been completely secular.
I was stunned, and delighted. David was Catholic, and I feel sure that was why the Baptist minister kept religion to a minimum- but the fact that he did so, and still made a fine and moving service, shows me what religion might be were the silliness of God removed.
An aside- all the adults there, save for Frank and Mary, David's siblings- are local, and no doubt read my letters in the local papers. And when I shook hands with the ones I had not seen since the letters were published- well perhaps I was imagining it, but it seemed I got some *very* strange looks! But nothing was said, and the event proved to be all that a funeral should be- a goodbye, and a closure, and an affirmation of familial love. I am very glad I was there.
We need to remember that religion is not all Fred Phelps and Jerry Falwell, Mohammed Atta and Jim Jones. It's also the ones like Rev. Joshua, and Bob Patterson. It has its human face, as well as the inhuman one.
(From later in that thread-)
If religion were always the dogmatic and mind-closing force that we all know that it can be- the evil which wears the mask of good- I am at a loss how it can inspire and fulfill such men as Bob Patterson, and some of the members of my own family. The dogma and doublethink is there, no one doubts it. But there is also a humanistic aspect- the best religious thinkers know that religion is for humans more than for gods.
For so many people, God is synonymous with good. We all have seen the knee-jerk reaction which equates atheism with evil; for the ones who don't have the brains, or the inclination, to try to work out the meanings and values of life in their own minds, religion is like a ready made suit which they can don without the effort of tailoring their own. (Oh, it will bind in some places, and sag in others; seldom does an off-the-rack suit fit like tailor made.)
The ethics espoused by most Jews, Christians and Muslims are usually good, by and large. I think that the ones who look for the darker and more hateful side are dark and hateful people; they use religion as a justification for the pride and greed and powerlust inborn in their personalities. If ever a religion could be made which blocked this- which did not allow evil to wear a mask of good- ahhh, I suppose that's just wishful thinking.
Still- that day, in back of that little country church, the sound of birds and cows and chickens in the distance, and the quiet and sonorous voice of that preacher speaking homely truths about my cousin, and life, and death- I saw that part of religion *is* a quest for what is good and loving and fine in this mix of good and evil we experience. Imperfect and simplistic and corruptible, oh aye; but for many, it serves as a template for a good life.
Hey, I am still an atheist. I see the dark side of that which claims to have no dark side. I see the repressed fear and the smothered hatred of the new and the different. I see that it is sometimes a mask for unspeakableness. But... I see that isn't *all* it is. For some people, it's the way they express the goodness within themselves.
And if we don't seek the good in life- what then do we seek?