Understanding Religious Belief

Like love, like wrath, like hope, ambition, jealousy, like every other instinctive eagerness and impulse, it adds to life an enchantment which is not rational or logically deducible from anything else. This enchantment, coming as a gift when it does come – a gift of our organism, the physiologists will tell us, a gift of God’s grace, the theologians will say – is either there or not there for us, and there are persons who can no more become possessed by it than they can fall in love with a given woman by mere word of command. Religious feeling is thus an absolute addition to the Subject’s range of life. It gives him a new sphere of power. When the outward battle is lost, and the outer world disowns him, it redeems and vivifies the interior world which otherwise would be an empty waste. (William James)

Having been raised in an extremely religious home, I came to find religious belief oppressive and boring. Praying was meaningless, worship repetitive and compulsory. Freedom – the elation of the soul, came to me when I escaped religion. It came to me in the beauty of the vast natural world and the ability to explore the thoughts of the many scholars and scientists who were also set free. That was a true joy. Absence of religion, for me, is freedom.

I’ve known a host of religious people in my life – I will briefly describe five of them, and in doing so reduce them to utter simplicity. They are far more than this, but this is what I observe. The names have been changed to protect these people, four of whom are truly innocent.

Mandy virtually exudes religious fervor from every pore. One can hardly encounter her on a sidewalk without knowing something of her deep convictions. She believes every word of the bible, and where the bible contradicts itself, she does not suffer cognitive dissonance. She claims to have been elevated to a fourth level of existence, had visions, experienced heaven and met angels. While these are surely the product of brain chemistry, one has to be a little envious. Others use physical stimulants to achieve the same result, much to their own demise.

John has had a hard life. He was a brilliant student, but long troubled. After graduating college, he was overcome by anger and self loathing, and one day bloodied his fists on a wall to the degree that he had to be institutionalized. He was given electroshock therapy for his manic depression, and emerged a broken man, but passable in society. His religious beliefs are sincere and deep – a cry for help in a world that pleases him hardly at all. It is his sanctuary, his only hope for any kind of relief from the pains of living. He attends mass daily, prays and reads the bible. Though he has a high level of comprehension, he is trapped by a brain whose limited functions have impeded his ability to communicate. He is hardly able to express a complete thought. His is a truly tragic life.

Mike is a stern taskmaster. He believes not only in the Bible, but in his own righteousness and validation through it. He knows that most of us are sinners and that he will look down on us as we are judged while he enjoys the fruits of everlasting happiness. His religious belief is validation. It makes hims strong and will eventually not only set him free, but send the rest of us to hell. He hates people. (By the way, the day of judgment is at hand.)

George is a very smart and kind man. He believes in the bible – well, Jesus anyway. He practices kindness and understanding. He is happy in his skin. He prays and meditates, but also keeps abreast of world events, reading magazines, newspapers and books. He has no desire to change people, in fact, knows that people don’t much change. Ever. He’s OK with that. He likes people as they are. He’s a lovely man.

Gidget is a buttercup, an ever-effusive font of faux-joy. Something troubles her deep down, but none around her ever get to go beyond the surface except in those dark, rare, and fleeting moments when her voice lowers and she makes an accurate observation that is not bubbly and optimistic. She believes in Jesus, and insists that any who come to her house pray to him, usually holding hands. She thinks people who are not religious are deeply depressed, and cannot fathom happiness without it. She is at once happy and in denial of reality, confused and troubled, but, as I said, an ever-effusive font of joy.

There are many others we have experienced. One cannot categorize or herd these people into one corral. To each, religion gives meaning to life otherwise not comprehensible. It becomes and extension of their personality. Where they are kind, religion is kind. Where they are dark and hateful, religion is vengeance. Where they are hopeless, they have hope, where they are simply confused, religion makes sense of it all.

I get short with people who are extremely religious, and don’t often enough give it credit for keeping us from killing one another, or, as Napoleon said, keeping the poor from killing the rich. (Religion is also validation for killing, but I want to avoid that topic.) My observations above are reflections on being on page 35 of William James’s Varieties of Religious Experience. I bought the book because I wanted to understand the religious impulse in humans. I have a long way to go.