Reflection on Religion
April 2004 Retreat
Tagaytay
(encoded and edited, October 26, 2004, Ignatian Retreat)
Religion as I understand it is a system of beliefs of a person in something beyond the human sphere and ultimately in God. By system of beliefs I mean the reasons – which ma include a sense of security – feeling of. Why I can say that I believe in such a God. In short I understand why I have such a a belief. This sounds so cold and detached. This cant be expected to occur in a child’s mind. But in my case, though I may not have these words then, I could say that this is what happened. I remember some of the sermons I heard; the literature that I read – they all gave reasons – logical, historically based, research-based [and so I thought at that time, given my limited resources, influences, world]– why I should believe what “they” were saying. It seems that for every activity that we did there is always a corresponding reason why it has to be done – and there is always something in the bible that they can quote. But now I can say that it was bound to collapse given the nature of things.
The very first idea that allowed me to take a stand and examined my set of beliefs from a distance is the idea of exclusivity. I have heard and read from school, Jesuits, and even our pastors before that God is love. He exemplifies what love is. It is His nature. It is Him. And so I could not conceive a God who is love to allow people – human beings whom He purportedly love – to suffer in hell for the single reason that they were unfortunate enough not to be members of a certain religion. It was not explicitly stated that only us will be saved but that has become a forgone conclusion if we will follow the logic of everything that I’ve heard from them.
And so it dawned me on me that I may belong to other religion, still God would love me. This thought prompted me to ask permission from my mom be become a Moslem. My reason was, aside from Islam sounding glamorous to me - I thought that God really would not mind what my religion is as long as I believe in Him. But my mom – ever practical and sensible – douse cold water to my burning hot enthusiasm to get away from my very constraining religion by telling me that the Moslems don’t believe in Jesus Christ. This gave me pause. And so I conceded in my thoughts that indeed I cant conceive myself not to believe in Christ. And so I stayed put – meaning I did not practice any religion. But I still prayed – in the manner taught to me as a child, praising God, asking forgiveness, petition.
[What is the reason for this so unexpected twist? In hindsight, or be truly hones about it, even at the time, though I could not bring myself to acknowledge it because of shame or from fear to be “ridiculed”. And so it just hovered at the periphery of my consciousness. Why the fear? Because first of all I can never be a Roman Catholic, which could be a choice because of its being the “common religion”. Why the never? So absolute? Because since childhood, I was brought up with the idea that roman Catholicism is a religion of the “pagans”. It is the most “wrong” religion, if even such a religion exists. The people around me (neighbors, etc) did not also help quash that idea. What with all their pictures of saints and their practices of kissing statues and everything which for me looked and sounded very much like superstition. And superstition for me is one of the gravest, if not the gravest sin. One reason is that it is the first commandment which I had memorized as a child. And second is that in our family, we were explicitly taught not to believe in aswangs and other related ideas/concepts, etc. The reason for this is maybe because my great-grandfather was known to be a balbal, so I think my mother wants to protect us from the agony of having to contend with neighbors teasing us with it. And so what better way to counter that than by having a strong conviction that it is not true. And so it was very much ingrained in my young mind (as young as 5 or 6 years old) not to believe in those things. My youth, my ignorance, my limited exposure also did not help, either. What about other “Christian” denominations? Well, at that time, nothing could fit the bill of what I was searching for. In my mind – which at that time was so idealistic and absolutist – what could they ever have which is better than the religion which I grew up with. Although, of course, their group is my most logical choice because, more or less, they are similar to my previous one. And so as a result I did not have any religion in a sense that is commonly understood.]
Then came my conversion in the mountains. I was suffocating with lack of oxygen, and so I thought I was dying. I promised to God that I would go to church if ever He would still let me live. It was a solemn promise because it was done in a circumstance where I thought was a matter of life and death. And so I have to fulfill that promise. If I won’t then it would no longer be me – I no longer conform to my set of beliefs – hence I no longer have a religion of sorts. This is for me equivalent to death. But for the life of me, I cant bring myself to go back to my old religion – there were too much constraints. I simply could not stomach it anymore. I have lived practically all my childhood being different and feelings of so much guilt for such and such transgressions and sins. I was already fed up and suffocated by all the restrictions. I needed to breath fresh air.
And so I went to a born again congregation. I like what I saw or more accurately I like what I heard – meaning their worship with songs. It was the best! The melody, I drown myself into. But then I have to listen to the sermon. The pastor was impressive, alright – as a preacher, grammatical errors and all. He seemed inspired, yes. But there was a niggling feeling in me that he was too slick – too smart-alecky, too smooth. He seemed to know everything. (But in fairness to him, I might have been downed by my ego because I now that he was a college drop-out. But still there really seemed to be something wrong with him. And so I stopped going back there.
But the dryness, the thirst to belong to a church has almost reached the level of undeniability – a matter of survival, plus the promise I made in the mountains. Other events unfold – I became fascinated, magnetized byte idea of becoming a religious. I seemed to be drawn towards it no matter how I tried to move away from it. Always, persons I am attracted were made instruments – teachers, friends. And so it came to a point when I relented. I went with the flow but still with the conviction that there is no way I become religious because I was not qualified. I was not and could not become a Roman Catholic – a basic requirement.
April 2004 Retreat
Tagaytay
(encoded and edited, October 26, 2004, Ignatian Retreat)
Religion as I understand it is a system of beliefs of a person in something beyond the human sphere and ultimately in God. By system of beliefs I mean the reasons – which ma include a sense of security – feeling of. Why I can say that I believe in such a God. In short I understand why I have such a a belief. This sounds so cold and detached. This cant be expected to occur in a child’s mind. But in my case, though I may not have these words then, I could say that this is what happened. I remember some of the sermons I heard; the literature that I read – they all gave reasons – logical, historically based, research-based [and so I thought at that time, given my limited resources, influences, world]– why I should believe what “they” were saying. It seems that for every activity that we did there is always a corresponding reason why it has to be done – and there is always something in the bible that they can quote. But now I can say that it was bound to collapse given the nature of things.
The very first idea that allowed me to take a stand and examined my set of beliefs from a distance is the idea of exclusivity. I have heard and read from school, Jesuits, and even our pastors before that God is love. He exemplifies what love is. It is His nature. It is Him. And so I could not conceive a God who is love to allow people – human beings whom He purportedly love – to suffer in hell for the single reason that they were unfortunate enough not to be members of a certain religion. It was not explicitly stated that only us will be saved but that has become a forgone conclusion if we will follow the logic of everything that I’ve heard from them.
And so it dawned me on me that I may belong to other religion, still God would love me. This thought prompted me to ask permission from my mom be become a Moslem. My reason was, aside from Islam sounding glamorous to me - I thought that God really would not mind what my religion is as long as I believe in Him. But my mom – ever practical and sensible – douse cold water to my burning hot enthusiasm to get away from my very constraining religion by telling me that the Moslems don’t believe in Jesus Christ. This gave me pause. And so I conceded in my thoughts that indeed I cant conceive myself not to believe in Christ. And so I stayed put – meaning I did not practice any religion. But I still prayed – in the manner taught to me as a child, praising God, asking forgiveness, petition.
[What is the reason for this so unexpected twist? In hindsight, or be truly hones about it, even at the time, though I could not bring myself to acknowledge it because of shame or from fear to be “ridiculed”. And so it just hovered at the periphery of my consciousness. Why the fear? Because first of all I can never be a Roman Catholic, which could be a choice because of its being the “common religion”. Why the never? So absolute? Because since childhood, I was brought up with the idea that roman Catholicism is a religion of the “pagans”. It is the most “wrong” religion, if even such a religion exists. The people around me (neighbors, etc) did not also help quash that idea. What with all their pictures of saints and their practices of kissing statues and everything which for me looked and sounded very much like superstition. And superstition for me is one of the gravest, if not the gravest sin. One reason is that it is the first commandment which I had memorized as a child. And second is that in our family, we were explicitly taught not to believe in aswangs and other related ideas/concepts, etc. The reason for this is maybe because my great-grandfather was known to be a balbal, so I think my mother wants to protect us from the agony of having to contend with neighbors teasing us with it. And so what better way to counter that than by having a strong conviction that it is not true. And so it was very much ingrained in my young mind (as young as 5 or 6 years old) not to believe in those things. My youth, my ignorance, my limited exposure also did not help, either. What about other “Christian” denominations? Well, at that time, nothing could fit the bill of what I was searching for. In my mind – which at that time was so idealistic and absolutist – what could they ever have which is better than the religion which I grew up with. Although, of course, their group is my most logical choice because, more or less, they are similar to my previous one. And so as a result I did not have any religion in a sense that is commonly understood.]
Then came my conversion in the mountains. I was suffocating with lack of oxygen, and so I thought I was dying. I promised to God that I would go to church if ever He would still let me live. It was a solemn promise because it was done in a circumstance where I thought was a matter of life and death. And so I have to fulfill that promise. If I won’t then it would no longer be me – I no longer conform to my set of beliefs – hence I no longer have a religion of sorts. This is for me equivalent to death. But for the life of me, I cant bring myself to go back to my old religion – there were too much constraints. I simply could not stomach it anymore. I have lived practically all my childhood being different and feelings of so much guilt for such and such transgressions and sins. I was already fed up and suffocated by all the restrictions. I needed to breath fresh air.
And so I went to a born again congregation. I like what I saw or more accurately I like what I heard – meaning their worship with songs. It was the best! The melody, I drown myself into. But then I have to listen to the sermon. The pastor was impressive, alright – as a preacher, grammatical errors and all. He seemed inspired, yes. But there was a niggling feeling in me that he was too slick – too smart-alecky, too smooth. He seemed to know everything. (But in fairness to him, I might have been downed by my ego because I now that he was a college drop-out. But still there really seemed to be something wrong with him. And so I stopped going back there.
But the dryness, the thirst to belong to a church has almost reached the level of undeniability – a matter of survival, plus the promise I made in the mountains. Other events unfold – I became fascinated, magnetized byte idea of becoming a religious. I seemed to be drawn towards it no matter how I tried to move away from it. Always, persons I am attracted were made instruments – teachers, friends. And so it came to a point when I relented. I went with the flow but still with the conviction that there is no way I become religious because I was not qualified. I was not and could not become a Roman Catholic – a basic requirement.
[bracketed some texts for the purpose of this workshop]
So even if I told my friend that my previous religion was a religion of reason (pure logic, understandable – at least at that time) while the Catholic faith is a religion of the heart – full of emotion, unstable – I’ll stick it out. (Now, I have a different idea. Thank you, Lord for Fr Dan).
By belief is more or less summed up by Kant’s philosophy. Material things are in a world of its own. All activities are explainable by math and physics. But there exist another world separate form the material which is conceivable by material mind. That is where God belongs. It can’t be explained. So far nobody has explained it exhaustively. The only way I can believe in it is through faith. And I can say that faith is what I have, however little it may be. My finite mind cant grasp nor contain the infinite God. Finite sets can’t contain infinite sets – that’s trivial! So I don’t have to worry that there is no reason to what I sometimes do. I do listen to explanation but they don’t seem satisfactory to me. But who am I? what I don’t doubt is that god exist and that He loves me.
