Religiosity and the Half-Empty/Full Glass

My theory: faith sees the glass half-full; religion* sees the glass half-empty.

 

Faith says, “You are a marvelous creation of God, made in the Divine image.”

Religion says, “You are a sinner who is incapable of anything good.”

 

Faith says, “Your story begins with creation.”

Religion says, “Your story begins with the Fall.”

 

Faith says, “Of course you have made bad decisions, but grace continues to move through your life.

Religion says, “Of course you have made bad decisions; this is why you’re in such a mess and must suffer the consequences.”

 

Faith says, “God waits for you to respond to divine love.”

Religion says, “God waits for you to be ashamed of your sins and to decide you will change.”

 

Faith says, “Trust God to work through your deepest desires and your best judgments because they grow out of who you are as a child of God.”

Religion says, “Don’t trust yourself at all, but rely only on the authority of God’s Word, or the Church, or those charged with leading you.”

 

Faith says, “God saved you because God loves you and eternally desires your company.”

Religion says, “God saved you because you were a miserable failure and needed saving.”

 

Faith says, “You are continuously being created by God, becoming more of who God dreamed you to be.”

Religion says, “You are continuously in need of help and repair, spiraling down into sinful patterns unless God helps you correct them.”

 

I could go on and on. And the tricky part is, there’s some truth in either viewpoint. But I think the general culture of Christian religion trains us in the half-empty attitude. We are more likely to see ourselves as worthless sinners than as God’s children. We are more likely to focus on what is not right than on what is good and moving forward. We are more likely to assume that God is irritated with us most of the time because we are screwing up most of the time—than we are to see God as the one who’s on our side, greatly pleased with our every little effort. Usually we walk through life dreading the moment when that divine disapproval will descend upon us. It’s really tiring to be in trouble all the time.

 

There is danger in de-emphasizing our need for help and our tendency to be selfish, foolish, and all the rest. Any person who is reflective at all recognizes how easily our God-given drives and desires swerve out of balance. There is good reason the saints and other spiritual heroes have practiced regular prayer, meditation, charitable works, and involvement in community; we need habits of soul to counteract our tendency to live out of fear and grasping, both of which lead to what we call sin, an old-fashioned word that we must not discard simply because it’s old-fashioned.

 

But I am so weary of watching people trudge through their lives feeling like sinners rather than like God’s beloved. It changes the way we do everything. It burdens us unnecessarily. It moves us to expect God to act like anything but a loving parent, teacher, friend. And we will never be at our best when, at gut level, we approach the Divine in the same way we would approach a vindictive authority figure.

 

My goal is to be not so much religious as faith-filled. I believe that faith-filled is what leads to faith-ful. Whenever the fear and dread and blanket guilt drift in, my faith looks for the closest exit.

 

*By “religion” I mean religious culture. Obviously, I’m using these terms loosely and I’m generalizing in order to make a point. Please, no angry responses unpacking the theological definitions of faith and religion.

Comments

[Michele]

What continues to baffle me is this: Why is our religious culture so dedicated to punishment? Why do we batter each other with "MUST!" and "OBEY!" when motivation through love and forgiveness actually feels good? Where did all the hostility come from?

[Cowardly Lion]

OK, no theological definitions, and I'm not at all angry. But here's an alternate psychological perspective to consider.

For me, "Faith" is either a work I don't know how to perform, or a gift God has not seen fit to give me. (Heaven knows I've asked.)

"Religion," on the other hand, is a network of people--"the people of God," in my Catholic tradition--and of observances, ceremonies, rituals that bind us together. After we pray the Our Father the priest says, "Look not at our sins but at the faith of your church," and I like that.

I tend to interpret "faith" as an individualized response (I suppose that's because I grew up Protestant) and "religion" as a corporate response. I feel much safer in community: the faith of the church seems so much more reliable than my own.

And by that I don't mean the laws or traditions or hierarchy of the church. I mean the people of God, gathered together to "do religion," you and me--whether or not we, individually, have faith.

So you see, for some of us, faith puts a heavy burden on our shoulders--love Jesus! have a personal relationship! trust!-- that religion can remove.