Which is the Right Religion?

Which is the Right Religion?
by Rodger Stevens

Just as the world “as it is” is neither democratic nor socialist, neither good nor bad, positive nor negative, so it is neither religious nor scientific. It is simply as it is. Religion, like science, is just another way of trying to figure out what the world is, just a different set of filters through which we sift our experience to try to explain things which, according to all the other filters we use, are difficult to explain.

In truth, Life is the ultimate in simplicity–it doesn’t get complex until we try to explain it. Consider a plant . . . how smart is it in terms of knowledge? It knows nothing of vitamins and minerals and cellular structure and regeneration the way a botanist understands them, yet the plant grows wonderfully, usually better than botanists.

That religion is best which makes us vulnerable and open to Life, like we were when we were little children, and doesn’t close us into a tightly defined box composed of creeds and dogmas, or a box of knowledge and superstition. That religion is best which allows us to be who we are, who we came here to be.

Music is the only religion that delivers the goods.
–Frank Zappa

All religions are both right and wrong. They are right in that all have ultimately sprung from the consciousness of someone who successfully parted the veils of worldly illusion and saw through to the truth which supports this world; they saw through the movie and perceived the screen on which that movie is being projected. Despite the glittering pomp and somber circumstance which organized religion has draped over these living, vital insights, they are still there . . . well-hidden, but still there.

Frank Zappa’s comment alludes to the fact that at its heart, religion’s true function is not some future-oriented emotional gush: choirs, golden staircases, offering plates, hero worship, (800) numbers, or lavish, consoling promises, but is instead a present, real-time celebration of what already is, what always is: the timeless eternity of isness. Any religion can be helpful now and then, but none are ultimate, for the infinite and infinitely dimensioned cosmos itself is the only Ultimate.

This, however, is generally forgotten by the organized religion which seeks to throw a dogmatic lariat around the cosmos while piously ignoring the fact that the vast remainder of reality has been left out of the corral.

History bears the same relation to truth as religion does to reality, i.e., none to speak of.
–Robert Heinlein

Religions are like the spokes of a wheel, and the purpose is to get to the center, where there is peace and stability. Any spoke you want to choose will lead in two directions: inward, toward the center, or outward toward the periphery. Religions vie amongst each other for paying customers, each claiming to be the “one true spoke.”

Spokes are easy to distinguish out near the rim, where they are separate and seemingly independent, which is why most religions are concerned primarily with making sure everyone knows how they differ from other religions, and pointing their judgmental fingers at all the infidels who believe otherwise. It’s the good-guy bad-guy game performed religiously.

Out on the circumference, activity is furious, so it looks like something meaningful is happening there . . . all the fancy robes and golden candlesticks and crowds of faithful followers swooning in each others arms. Sometimes one particular spoke is up, in its heyday, and its spiritual pride will not go unadvertised. Sometimes it is down in which case the crowds flock elsewhere.

Each spoke points in two directions: toward the center, and also directly away from that same center. You can move in either direction, but the religious authorities would prefer, if not insist, that you go outward. The more outward you go, the more frantically you will have to cling to that spoke to keep from being thrown off. In time, you become a fervent believer . . . your social standing may demand it, not to mention the fate of your soul (whatever that might be), and if you behave you will remain in the good graces of the church. You need them (or at least you learn to believe so) and they definitely need you.

But as they merge toward the hub, the spokes begin to lose their individuality, they all begin to look similar, which is considered bad for business. The closer you get to the center, the more similarity emerges between the same spokes which appeared so different out on the circumference. You begin to see how they have certain things in common, and their similarities really outweigh their differences.

At the very center, of course, where there is no furious activity, where things are smooth and balanced, there are no spokes at all. By this time you have left all religion behind you; you have graduated from what the Hindus call the Wheel of Samsara, the wheel that takes you from birth to death to birth to death to . . .

The truly religious man does not embrace a religion, and he who embraces one has no religion.
–Kahlil Gibran

You are perfectly free to go in either direction on these spokes. You can go outward to the circumference, in which case you will be taken for a ride, sometimes way up and sometimes way down as you bounce through life. Or you can go inward toward the center, where the ride is smooth because it is in balance. If the center is where you want to be, then you will eventually have to leave all the spokes behind. Religion’s official spokesmen don’t want you to know this, or they will lose you as a paying customer.

So, ultimately all religions are also wrong, because God, or whatever you choose to call the ultimate ground of being, is the center, not only the center of this metaphorical wheel, but also the very center of you, and as such is immediately available to all of us. If Deity, by whatever label, is really omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent, then there is nothing else in existence which is not also It. How can there be? Otherwise the Deity would not be omnipotent, etc.

The analogy of the wheel applies to us individuals as well. When you have lost sight of your center, the place where you were when you assumed a human body, then you have moved out to the periphery where life is shaky and dizzying.

Even though you have been taught for a lifetime to mistrust yourself, that as you are you are not good enough to embody the divine, you will never find your center beyond your own circumference, because it’s not out there . . . it is within.

Truth is immediate. The word immediate means not mediated, or without mediator; it means that there is nothing standing between you and it. That includes dogmas, priests, rituals, practices, time, space, and anything else you can imagine. Truth is what one realizes by living with the same quality of spontaneity that was lived by Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, and all the rest. Like theirs, our lives must not be cages in the confining prisons of dogma and conformity. The only thing that keeps heaven from our experience is the assumption that it is to be found somewhere or somewhen else.

One does not realize the spontaneous life by depending on the repetition of thoughts or affirmations; one realizes it by seeing that no such devices are necessary.
–Alan Watts

The American Indian sees no need for setting apart one day in seven as a holy day, since to him all days are God’s.
–Charles A. Eastman

So many gods, so many creeds,
So many paths that wind and wind,
When just the art of being kind
Is all this sad world needs.
–Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Religions and churches serve best when they serve as filling stations. When you are out of gas, you go to a filling station, you tank up, and then you move on with your life. Certainly there is a modicum of community surrounding a church congregation–people showing love to each other and so on–but the real test comes when someone wants to leave and move on with their lives.

What usually happens is that since churches and religions have become legal and institutional entities, with mortgages and payrolls, building programs and a full menu of available services, the officers are more interested in collecting life-long paying customers. Religions have become big business, and in so doing, they have become more like retirement communities, where you are expected, often under threat of eternal damnation, to remain docile, to blindly follow the pastor, and to unflinchingly remain in the fold. Sheep thrills.

When one blind man follows another blind man, they both fall into the ditch.
–Kahlil Gibran

Avoid, as you would the plague, a clergyman who is also a man of business.
–St. Jerome

I once wrote a short story about a community which lived on the banks of a great wide river. The prevailing religion held that across the river lay the promised land, but the river was so treacherous that very few ever dared to cross it, and fewer still succeeded. The local hero was presumed to have been the only one to successfully complete the trip, thereby earning him the title of savior.

One day a young commoner decided to find out for himself what the promised land was really like, so despite the risks, not to mention the threats of eternal damnation, he set out across the river. He was gone for a long time, nearly eighteen years, and those remaining behind thought him a fool for not conforming like the rest and believing the words of the true religion everyone else believed in. Stories abounded about how he had surely drowned, was eaten by sharks or captured by pirates, all because he doubted the divine revelations of the priests.

Eventually the young man returned. He hadn’t been eaten by sharks, or captured by pirates; in fact, none of the dire predictions of the priests bore a shred of truth. But what he did report about his journey, the truths he discovered, did infuriate the priests. He said that the other side of the river was just like this side (the kingdom on heaven is at hand), and that anybody who cared enough could see for themselves if they were willing to take swimming lessons. This outraged the priests of the home religion, who were making a killing selling soul insurance and life preservers, so they had the man arrested and then executed. Later, of course, he was martyred, and brand new religions sprang up around the various recollections of his teaching.

We now find the world full of religions which promise to deliver us to the next world in return for our moral and financial support in this one. These religions, built around vague, fragmented, and reconstructed recollections of the masters’ teachings are like big, fancy cruise liners, complete with all sorts of creature comforts to keep their paying customers occupied.

There are plenty of embarkation wharves on this shore, since the channels have been dredged out to make it possible for these huge ships to come in close. But on the other shore there are no such wharves; instead, there are natural barriers like reefs, shallows, sand bars, and tricky currents . . . all manner of impediments to these expensive, ponderous, and unwieldy vessels.

Consequently, because of the investment and earning power they represent to their owners, these huge ships spend most of their time steaming around in deep water, covering the same stretches of the river over and over again (their navigators are often lawyers, merchandisers, and investment counselors), telling their passengers how lucky they are to be on this ship, and keeping them occupied enough to prevent their noticing that the ship never arrives anywhere.

The crews, of course, are well-schooled in deflecting any troublesome or disturbing questions that might be raised by passengers who happen to notice that their long-awaited deliverance is always being rescheduled to some vague time next year. They will assure restless passengers that the waters are shark-infested, that drowning is a certainty if one should choose to jump ship, that one might be captured by satanic pirates, anything to keep the numbers up.

If you look closely at the words of the masters (not necessarily at the words of those who came afterward and whose understanding of the message would have been clouded at best), then you see that they all talked of finding the truth within, not without. Some of these boats might get you a little closer to the other shore, but if you really want to arrive, you will have to do the last leg on your own.

Buddha, Jesus, and the rest didn’t come to throw us a life-preserver, but to teach us how to swim so we wouldn’t any longer have to depend on artificial flotation devices which always spring leaks at the wrong time. How can you have a leak in your ability to swim?

Those who are enslaved to their sects are not merely devoid of all sound knowledge, but they will not even stop to learn.
–Galen

Fanaticism consists in redoubling your efforts when you have forgotten your aims.
–George Santayana

From fanaticism to barbarism is only one step.
–Denis Diderot