side effects

At the outset of this class, we were given a set of slides as an introduction to the approach the course would take in studying religion.  It was made clear that we'd be studying various religions of the world in side-by-side comparison, and not in an attempt to declare one greater than another.  The thing that has stayed with me thus far through the coursework is the point that religion is a human creation, born of a psychological need, to make sense of human suffering and search for the meaning of life, and to give hope for an afterlife.

I'm fortunate to be in a relationship with someone of the same faith.  "J" and I were both raised in Catholic families; we have both observed Lent and celebrated Easter for our entire lives.  However, we have several friends who espouse other creeds, and a few who do not practice any type of religion.  

It's the latter that got me thinking for this blog post.  In our observance of Lent, both J and I steer clear of meat and poultry on Fridays, opting instead for fish or meat-free meals.  We had the pleasure of joining friends for lunch this Friday, and in deciding where to meet, J told our friends that we'd prefer a restaurant that wasn't "meat-centric" -- let's save the barbecue joints for another day!

At that point, one of the group launched into his typical response whenever the subject of religion is broached:  rolling eyes, audible snorts of disdain, and a short diatribe on how "it's all such a bunch of bull."

J and I ignored it; sadly, it's not the first time we've heard it, so when he chooses to air these opinions, we tune it out and change the subject.  However, this was the first encounter I'd had with this character since enrolling in this course and beginning daily meditation, and all I could think of was that definition.  My own philosophy has long been that faith is the divine, and that religion is the human interpretation -- and as such, there are flaws inherent in the creation.  To me, it's a simple case of function over form:  humanity needs something to fill that void.

The meditations I've been doing have been focused primarily on things for which I'm grateful.  An unexpected side benefit is that I find myself less likely to overreact to things, and less likely to react in knee-jerk fashion.  Rather than feeding into this person's negativity, I felt comforted in the knowledge that I have the ability to be tolerant and appreciative of things I don't necessarily understand. 

'tis the season

I've been thinking about this post for a couple days now, as this past Wednesday marked the beginning of Lent for us Catholics.  I call myself a practicing Catholic; though I don't go to Mass as regularly as my Catholic school background would have me go, I consider myself active in my faith, and here's why.  

First, I do pray regularly.  It's probably a 50/50 split between traditional scripted prayers and free-form "conversation" with God.  (For the record, my favorite go-to traditional prayer is the Memorare of St. Bernard.  It's lovely and comforting... and my entire high school said it together every Friday of the academic year, so it's familiar and has very special meaning for me.) 

And second, I observe the practices of our faith.  Ash Wednesday begins Lent, the season in which Roman Catholics prepare for the coming of the kingdom of Christ (signified by His resurrection on Easter).  We honor the season with fasting (taking just one meal) on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, and with abstinence (from meat and foods made with meat) on Fridays.  Abstinence also takes the form of "giving up" something; making some personal sacrifice for the 40 days of Lent.

(Side note:  my sacrifice this year is that I've given up all caffeinated beverages.  None of that glorious french toast coffee for me; no Diet Coke, which practically runs in my veins; not even iced tea, unless it's green.  God be with me... and with those I encounter!)

Ash Wednesday is also the day when you'll notice your coworkers and friends walking around with inky-black smudges on their foreheads.  No, it's not a bruise; yes, we do wash our faces; this smudge is intentional!  It's a reminder of the fleeting nature of human life and of the original sin that separates us from God.

When I commented to someone about giving up caffeine and getting to Mass on Wednesday, he responded with a roll of his eyes, an audible "ugh" and the rhetorical question:  "you still do that stuff?"  

Well... yeah, I do.  Isn't that what faith is?  Doing the "stuff" your religion holds sacred?

I tell this story here not to make myself sound "holier than thou" but to draw connection to the daily meditation I've been trying to incorporate.  I've always observed Lent, but I realized this week that I haven't always known why I do it.  This year, the daily effort at gratitude has made me pay closer attention to the reasons why I observe the Catholic rituals... and I'm grateful for my faith.