
This is one of those observations that may be completely obvious to you, gentle reader, but was not to me.
I’ve been mildly perturbed about the extent of my interest in different faiths. There have been quite a few “shoulds” around this for me, as in “Should I, as a Christian:”
- feel quite such a yearning towards the Jewish practice of the sabbath meal?
- feel quite so moved at hearing verses from the Qur’an intoned by an Imam in the exotic (to me) surroundings of a mosque?
- feel quite such a sense of fellowship at a pagan ritual celebrating the natural world?
- feel quite such intense recognition and sense of home-coming at the sound of a Tibetan Buddhist chant?
Well as I write this my worries sound absurd, even to me, but I feared I was becoming a kind of spiritual tourist, that I was in it for the aesthetic experience, incapable of depth or rigour.
All this was far from my mind earlier as I gazed out at the sun glinting on a heavy blanket of snow. Then it suddenly came to me: of course I’m moved by many different spiritual traditions. They are all manifestations of the divine or of our love of the divine. No need to feel torn in different directions.
Of course the teachings of my Roman Catholic girlhood would beg to differ, telling me as they did that there was only one path to God, and not even other Christian denominations were on it. But that’s behind me now.
Image by Dimitry B
Meanwhile, elsewhere in cyberspace:
I’m reading Andy’s beautiful post Imbolc Blessings, and about the courage of an “ordinary” Baha’i at Barney’s blog.





{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }
Amen sister!
I like it…
One word: ‘Yes!’
Who said one was supposed to feel “guilty” about any so called “spiritual tourism” anyway? Even coining a term such as “spiritual tourism” seem to smack of a value judgment to me. Surely, it must be those in some sort of “spiritual authority” who would make anyone feel that it’s a bad thing to be genuinely interested in and drawn to that which resonates with the depths of one’s soul, wherever one finds it…. Or else it’s the “true believers” who are convinced that theirs is the only path…. I have no time for them and won’t let them tell me how to “find God” and “truth.” Sorry, but this touched a nerve with me. I don’t see why it should even be an issue, although I know plenty of people for whom it is a HUGE issue.
Deep respect and fondness to you, my friend.
Be. You. Never mind anything else.
Thanks guys, and yes A, of course, but you know from your own background how deeply ingrained these things can be and how long it can take to shake ‘em. I’m just glad for the extra touch of understanding and awareness I arrived at that it was – had been – a bit of an issue for me and even more glad to realise that the ‘bit of an issue’ has dropped away.
Tess,
Yes, I surely do know. It has taken my whole life for some of the religious crap to get sorted through. And I did not mean for my comment to seem insensitive or dismissive in any way–if it did–I am truly glad for this “extra touch of understanding and awareness” as you call it, that you have received.
Much peace to you
“They are all manifestations of the divine or of our love of the divine. No need to feel torn in different directions.”
Tess, that is exactly what I was thinking as I read this post. It may not be the intent of the one doing the ceremonial act to worship Jesus as part of the Godhead but that’s the way you, yourself, interpret it. How can you not? There ceremonies and customs are just spiritual practices wrapped in a different colored bow. If Jesus is at the center of your heart when you bow down in a Catholic church He will surely be in your heart as you meditate to a tibetan monk chant or break unleavened bread at a passover meal. You can’t remove the source of love; you can only change the way you display it.
And is it necessary to interpret all things that speak to one spiritually as actually being “Jesus” in different display? To do so seem to me to imply something like “Well, we know that Jesus is really the “source of life” and really the greatest truth, so if we see truth and value in some place or tradition not speaking of or intending Jesus, well, it still must be Jesus….” Sorry to seem a jerk here, but that approach strikes me as arrogant and narrow minded, and as dismissive of the genuine spiritual traditions that we are doing it to. Everything true is NOT Jesus just displayed differently and to say so is to disrespect the Buddhist or the Hindu or the Muslim who in fact does not worship Jesus.
Sorry Tess, you may delete this comment if I am out of line here.
As I read your post, I was thinking, “No, you shouldn’t,” meaning not that these were bad but you should not feel obligatedto explore these, but “Yes, what a blessing that you do.”
It seems to me that seeking beauty in the divine expressions of many faiths is truth-seeking, and in truth-seeking, we find God, in many, perhaps unexpected, places.
I completely relate to the difficulty shaking the more traditional view. And I, too, am just beginning to put it behind me.
Thanks for the encouragement.
As you know, Tess, the Baha’i teachings emphasize the value in all the great traditions, believing them all to come from the One Divine Source (i.e. God).
“Spiritual tourism” seems to connote a lack of seriousness in investigating the spiritual reality that is the heritage of all of us. It would seem to indicate that you pop in, have a look, buy a memento from the gift shop, and move on without having allowed the experience to transform you in any way.
I know from reading Anchors and Masts over quite some time now that this is not true of you. Far from it. You are spiritually serious, otherwise you would not have embarked on the Benedictine path.
By “spiritually serious” I don’t mean a lack of humour. Great spirituality, it seems to me, is very close to laughter and fun-poking. Witness the wonderful smile and laugh of the Dalai Lama. The late (and much missed) Rabbi Hugo Gryn was a man of great spirituality AND of wonderful humour.
Sorry, I’ve gone off track here. All I mean to say is, there is nothing wrong with being touched to the very core by faiths other your own. I find myself greatly enriched by my fellowship with people of many faiths and I have learned deep spiritual lessons in many places.
@Jules and A: I’ve been pondering what you both said, and I’d like to respond to your comments together, if I may. For me, although Christianity is the main expression of my own spiritual life, it isn’t the lens through which I see other faiths, and in a strange sort of way it isn’t even quite the lens through which I see my own faith. Not sure how to explain this. I was reading the other day about the Jewish Name of God, comprised of the Hebrew letters yod-hay-vav-hay (YHVH), and that the tradition behind this unpronounceable name is to remind Jews that God is beyond the limitations implied in being named. What you say, Jules, implies a personal daily relationship with Jesus the man/son of God which isn’t my experience. My experience (when the sun is not behind the clouds) is of an unknoweable, transcendent God. So no, I don’t experience the God(s) of other faiths through Jesus, but his teaching and love for humankind is of vital importance to me anyway.
@Pam: I love your middle paragraph about seeking beauty and truth. And yes, in what unexpected places we find the sacred. Glad you’re encouraged.
@Barney: Thanks, and yes your description of spiritual tourism was what concerned me. I don’t know where I first heard the phrase but that would be my interpretation: the ’30 countries in 30 days’ approach.
And I’m not sure anyone could be spiritually serious without having a sense of humour. I may have mentioned this before, but I once met the late Cardinal Basil Hume. When I say ‘met’ I mean that he had celebrated a mass at our parish for people with disabilities, and I went afterwards with my brother to the rather crowded reception party. I stood on a man’s foot and turning round to apologise, discovered it was the Cardinal himself whose tootsie I had stomped. I’ll always remember the twinkle of amusement in his eye, and his gentleness. He was another, like HH the Dalai Lama, to combine holiness with laughter.
I remember feeling I’d come home when I attended the bar mitzvah of my son’s friend. To Baptist me, the Hebrew words were familiar at some deep level that I’d never been aware of. I love the sense of the faith of our fathers and mothers that gave me.
Not to make light of anything anyone has written, but I was struck by the references to the humor of several people of faith. Doesn’t it seem like God – in the immensity that name hints at – must enjoy laugher and good fun? The are giraffes, emus, and a good many other rather silly looking creatures that I believe tell us to lighten up and to cherish the mystery. As believers, that probably includes a responsibility to being kind to everyone and everything.
Grace and peace, friends.
Barbara Anne, your comment made me smile. And I bet giraffes and emus think we’re pretty silly looking!!
Many decades ago a Baha’i author wrote a humorous book called “God Loves Laughter”. This book is still in print and is still very popular.
The wisdom (and humour) of God does not allow itself to being boxed up. Being as imperfect a person as I am, I tend to view other faith traditions from the perspective of my own. It would be intellectually dishonest, if I did not admit that. Nevertheless, I have been enriched by learning of and experiencing the teachings and rituals of others. It fills in blanks in my own tradition and enables me to embrace facets of God that were closed to me.
god does indeed love laughter (at least my god does
) i love you, tess, and the fabulous comments generated here. conversation is how things will begin to change. a great bumper sticker says…”god is bigger than any one religion!”
(and oh how i do laugh at myself as the child of fundamentalists…look at me now…going to yoga, partaking of sabbath meals, visiting an astrologer and a spiritual director, and riding a vespa
i am thinking my memoir might be entitled “good girls don’t.” so if how i am living today is “bad” may it be so, ’cause i feel closer to god than i ever have in my life!!! if i am a “spiritual tourist” because i find god in the trees, the synagogue, the temple, the church, the beach, let it be!
Barney, Barbara, Lucy, thank you for your comments, and I love you back, Lucy. Well of course God would have to have a sense of humour, looking at what we all get up to!
By the way, this site seems to be doing something a little odd with comments, asking me to moderate even people who comment quite often. Don’t know what that’s all about, but apologies.
Peace Tess (and everyone else too),
Nice post! As honest and forthright as ever. I know what you mean about disliking ‘spiritual tourism’ and would also agree with Barney’s general point. Also, in a sense, we’re all kind of tourists because we’re all only visiting planet earth for a short time – before we go on to whatever lies beyond!
As for lack of commitment and such things, Allah! I certainly feel that in myself at times
And may God make my imitation a reality!
Blessings, Abdur. What a great point about visiting planet earth for this short time – and it goes past so quickly!
Oh you took the words out of my mind as I was forming them and that being “of course” you feel those feelings of curiosity and comfort in other religions as they are indeed a part of the creation we have been made and have been given. This is a beautiful post!
xoxo
Thank you SS.