Spiritual Lapdogs

I bought a book called, “Blue Like Jazz." The author’s style is addicting, but I don’t feel like talking about style or the book right now. I bring it up because it made me think about what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about, what I want to get down on paper (or the modern equivalent thereof), is religion and spirituality.

Religion seems to be eternally linked to phrases like “religious stupidity,” “religious genocide,” or, to say what people really want to say, “religious evil.” I can see why. What do people see of religion? Blue hair on the TV asking for your pocket change, squeezing blood from stones. Judgmental eyes and taut vocal cords pounding Bibles and sending the world to Hell. Picket lines chanting the evils of homosexuality, drowning out the somber scene of American soldiers’ funerals (I read about that one on CNN). If that’s religion, maybe I don’t want any.

But what about spirituality? I keep hearing the phrase, “I’m spiritual but not religious.” I think this is supposed to mean that they are free to worship God (or god or gods) in any manner they chose. They aren’t shackled by the iron manacles of religious dogma. What it usually means, as far as I can see, is that they are free to not worship God (or god or gods) in whatever manner they chose. I have a mental picture of a lapdog with the nametag “God” around its neck. A cute, fuzzy, lapdog that even does tricks if you ask it nicely and give it a treat.

You could argue that real religion, although much maligned, is really man’s attempt to draw closer to God. And, in the same right, true spirituality is really the same thing. They’re both man’s attempt to fill a natural void, to fix that which is broken inside. I hate the phrase, “spiritual but not religious”, but I love what lies beneath. Why would someone who has no use for God still claim some tie to Him?

That reason, that thirst, is exactly why I’ve grown less found of labels and more fond of evidence. I’m tired of seeing liberal debauchery and religious atrocity. What I want to see is the answer to a question I was asked once:

“What does it mean to be a Christian. I don’t mean the giving your life to Christ bit. I mean, how do you live it?”

I think the answer to that question is where spirituality and religion cross paths. Not somewhere in the middle. Somewhere far, far off, just beyond the horizon. It has to be far off because I know I can’t get there by myself.