Happy New Year! Let’s kick it off by talking about something simple, say, religion. At least, it should be simple.
In early December I volunteered at the Minneapolis Convention Center’s Day of Hope for Those Experiencing Homelessness. Upon arrival I waited in a long, seemingly unmoving line for my official lanyard. After several minutes, I turned around to assess the status of the queue and found myself face-to-face with a woman about my age. I remarked on the slow line and she responded by asking me if I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. What? I guarantee that this is not on any list of great conversation openers. This sort of opener is as weird and welcoming as “How much money did you make last year?” or “Have you considered plastic surgery?”
I said I was fine with my beliefs, but she barreled on, informing me that only people who accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior will go to heaven. “And the rest,” I asked, “just die and evaporate into the ether?” Eyes widening, she said with certainty and a hint of glee, “No, they go to hell.”
If this were the first time I’d encountered such an exchange, I’d probably have regarded it as a one-off with an overeager zealot. But it was the fourth: Four times, four different people each proclaiming theirs was the one true religion, and more bizarre, four different religions, leaving me wondering if I’m some sort of magnet for proselytizers.
One’s religion, or spirituality, is deeply personal and unique. I’ve studied many religions and happily know people of all of them, including Rastafarian. I’m attracted to people not for their religious beliefs, but because they are interesting, curious and kind. Having the bulk of them condemned to hell by a total stranger toting a Bible was not acceptable. I was steaming.
I’ve long felt that comparing religions is like debating which color of the rainbow is the best. They’re all beautiful, and each of us usually finds one the most pleasing. I like green, but certainly don’t want to live in an emerald-clad world. Similarly, while I have a belief system, honed over years of study and consideration, I’d hate for everyone to think exactly as I: There is beauty, intrigue and learning in diversity.
Several years ago, I was in Morocco, and while in Marrakesh I had a private tour guide, a lovely woman named Nora. We got along famously, and after a morning of visiting sites I invited her to join me for lunch. Over tagine, we discussed mostly our respective religions — she Muslim and I, raised Catholic. Having recently translated into Spanish the Five Pillars of Islam for one of my books, I was surprised to learn how similar Islam is to both Christianity and Judaism. They all promote allegiance to their faith, prayer, generosity and being kind to others. I’ve found this to be true of every religion I’ve encountered.
I asked Nora about 9/11, when jihadists hijacked airplanes and toppled the World Trade Center. She replied that it was terrible that so many lives were lost. She also noted that tourism for Muslim countries dried up for ten years, leaving her and countless colleagues unemployed, and it was a PR nightmare for the Nation of Islam. I then mentioned the “fine print” of the Quran, that part about defending Islam with force, and Nora said the most amazing thing: “This version of the jihad is a man-made law, and man-made laws are what cause problems in religion.”
I thought back to the picayune rules with which I’d been raised, each one promising dire consequence if not followed. It’s hard to imagine a deity – God, Allah, Adonai, Elohim, Jehovah, Hu, Bahá, Hayyi Rabbi, Bhagavan, Akal Purakh, Nana Buluku, Unkulunkulu – the list goes on, as do the varieties of religions – really judging or condemning a person on whether or not she wears a hat to church. Do we really need anything more to divide us?
It’s easy to get caught up in the complexities of it all, but, really, it’s simple: Any religion is good if it helps you become a kind person.
Whatever you believe, be kind.
– Dorothy
