Faith (or lack thereof)

Interesting word, faith.

People sometimes treat it as a synonym for belief but of course, it’s not that.

I believe the sun will come up tomorrow but I don’t have to take it on faith. The empirical evidence of sixty years on Earth supports my belief that Orphan Annie was right. And a basic knowledge of physics demonstrates that if it doesn’t come up, I won’t know it, anyway.

I have faith in Mary, based on the definition “complete trust or confidence in someone or something.” This is a faith based on confluence of life goals, physical attraction and twenty-six years of working together to build a life. It’s a faith based on experience and the sure and certain knowledge of shared truths.

I believe in the Constitution and our system of government. But my faith in equitable outcomes based on them is frequently shaken. Now, for instance. I won’t go farther, since this is not meant as a political treatise. Another time, perhaps.

Most of the time when someone suggests that I should have faith, they simply mean that I would be well served to assume a hopeful stance. I can do that. Usually. At least, I try.

Just recently, I have on several occasions encountered expressions of faith of a sort I can’t personally embrace. The trouble with religious faith is that it generally requires a leap of faith, a belief in something for which by definition no direct evidence can exist.

And that’s where I leave off.

I was raised a Roman Catholic, including parochial school through eighth grade, years of serving as an altar boy and lector, singing for guitar masses as part of a group in San Jose and Santa Clara and as a soloist in Glendale. I wrote and performed biblically-based songs and performed for Catholic wedding ceremonies innumerable.

Speaking of biblical study, I’ve taken bible class and read the thing from beginning to end twice. I‘ve spent hundreds of hours trying to find truth in its pages.

The thing is, I can’t.

Just the fact that I don’t see it as revealed truth (the word of a god) would be enough to make me walk away. But the damning aspect is that I just don’t find it likely.

I wish this didn’t bother some of my friends, but it does. And I can’t help that. I have to live by my own lights, and the whole discussion of religion has become for me – as I’ve indicated in earlier posts – moot. I don’t find it an important topic of discussion simply because I am pretty well convinced of two ‘truths’ of mine own:

·  No currently available religious tract adequately explicates the breadth and depth of the question, "From whence did humans arise?”

·  If there is such an entity as a god, the plethora of conflicting descriptions among the various sects indicates that the god in question has not revealed itself to humankind.

One of the most annoying postulates I hear is the old saw about our existence serving as evidence prima face of divine intervention (This could not have come about by accident.).  Sorry, doesn’t wash. In fact, in my mind, this existence in which we find ourselves could only have come about by accident, assuming you consider evolution to amount to an accident.

Of course, I could be wrong. There may be a god whose judgment upon my death will send me to dwell in the where/when in which people like me are sent to dwell. I know, tautologies aren’t logically defensible. But we aren’t talking about logic here, are we? Rather, we’re talking about the Great Unknowable.

If a god is going to send me to live with other people who lived their lives as did I, it behooves me to live that life in a way that will yield satisfaction with my eternal neighbors. I’m going to continue working on that.

I don’t have much to offer in the way of what you might consider faith. But I do have beliefs. And I believe there are right and wrong ways to order one’s life.

It comes down to the Golden Rule.