Idaho faith: Religion is an easy target, but with conviction, we tip the scales to good

Sometimes I get a little depressed at the anti-religious comments I hear from friends, acquaintances, even relatives. You know: “Religion has been responsible for most of the evils of the world, and everything would be fine if religion disappeared.” Even John Lennon, in his wonderful song “Imagine,” hopes for “no religion, too.”

And then, of course, there are times when I’m mightily tempted to join their camp.

The Taliban’s terrors are a chilling reminder of narrow, exclusivistic, my-way-or-the-highway religion. Closer to home, some years ago, there was an Idaho congressman, speaking out of his religious convictions, declaring that the founding fathers did not intend Muslim or Hindu American citizens to serve in Congress. His divisive self-righteousness apparently caused him to forget our Constitution’s “no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States.” He is, alas, not alone in believing he has a corner on religious truth.

There is lots of fodder for the anti-religion crowd.

But I continue to disagree vigorously with them, in spite of some history, current events and dogma-blinded congressmen. Religion, the individual spiritual quest gathered into an institution, is like everything people create: It can be wonderful and it can be terrible. It can rise to great heights and sink to the demonic.

The spiritual, religious impulse is deeply embedded in the human spirit. Religion has always arisen from the human need to find glimpses into mystery, to join with others in spiritual search. All people feel reverence in the face of birth and death. We feel awe at beauty, at human courage, at Mother Nature’s power. Art and poetry often bring us to that almost-weeping, wordless sense of all that is greater than we are. We ask ourselves and each other, “Why are we here?” “Does life mean anything?” “How do we best live our lives?”

And, since we are animals that gather together, we create communities we call churches, synagogues, mosques, temples. Of course, some of these institutions gain power and misuse it. (The hunger for power — now there’s a human tendency I’d love to see disappear!) But so many add to the sum of love and justice in the world.

In the religious institutions that sometimes come in for so much criticism, we love our children and bring them up to act out of compassion and respect and humility. We study sacred poetry, prose, music, dance and art, hoping to learn to live in harmony with the rest of creation. We gather with other religious bodies, joining our strength to help the poor, the dispossessed, the victims of power misused.

In the best of religious institutions, we preach and practice acceptance of others. We understand that we are far too small a part of the cosmos to presume that our beliefs equal Truth. We pray in many ways, knowing that what each of us knows of God is a piece of the truth.

Religious people make mistakes. Religions in power can do great harm. But the great majority of us tip the balance toward the good, large or small.

The dark side of human nature, not faith, is responsible for evil in the world. We who choose the sometimes difficult path of spiritual practice in community can be the best antidote imaginable for the demonic. Embracing our humanity in all its fullness — bumping up against each others’ strengths and weaknesses — we have the best chance of helping the divine light shine through.