One of the questions we were asked to consider for this week is the following: “Some have suggested that ‘religious’ refers to experiences within the context of a religious community while ‘spiritual’ refers primarily to solitary experiences of transcendence. Do you agree or not?” and “Have your religious experiences been spontaneous and unbidden, or the result of a spiritual practice or corporate worship? What is the role of intentionality [in your personal experience of God]?
I have to say that I like that distinction between “spirituality” and “religion” although I certainly think that both methods of accessing the divine can be pursued by individuals simultaneously and indeed likely are by many faithful people. Let’s use the example of prayer. While in Islam there are prescribed prayers, sometimes performed in community, there are also private prayers. I don’t pray in community at the moment but I would say my private prayers fall into both the “religious” and “spiritual” arenas. My religious prayers are more rote and they focus on what I consider to be religious duty. My spiritual prayers are more personal and they involve a conversation with God. One is not more valuable to me and I actively pursue both, for instance in memorizing new portions of the Koran during Ramadan for my “religious” prayers.
The second question we’re being asked to consider is whether our personal religious experiences have been the result of intentional practice or whether they were spontaneous and unbidden. I would say that most of my religious experiences have been the result of intentional practice, either in prayer (private or communal), or during fasting. Fasting was really tough for me this year because I didn’t experience a connection to God almost at all.
Last year was the first year I’d fasted during Ramadan in many a year but it was an very satisfying experience. I was rewarded by what I seek most in religion: a connection to God. It’s a feeling, a response when I reach out with my mind in prayer or action. There’s a saying in Islam that if you take one step toward Allah, He takes 10 steps toward you. I try to remember that, but it’s tough when I can’t feel it. As I’ve said before my relationship with religion is experiential. I try to do my duty by religion because I believe it is good for me, and because I believe that God has asked certain things of me, but when I don’t feel God’s warmth pressing back against my actions I get disheartened and even bitter. More on that when I discuss my “valley” religious experiences below.
This week during class we’re also going to discuss our own peak, valley and plateau religious experiences. Briefly, peak experiences are intense, ecstatic experiences. Plateau experiences are of everyday transcendence. The example the book gives is of watching your child sleep. And valley experiences are of suffering and what can feel like meaninglessness.
My peak religious experiences are easy to talk about and easy to remember. They’ve usually come about during communal prayer. What characterizes them is the way in which I experience God at those times. I feel uplifted, almost like I’m floating. I feel a sense of otherworldly approval that is among the most powerful positive feelings I’ve ever experienced. These experiences are rare but they’re strong enough to keep me in line and seeking them. I try to gauge when they happen – am I living especially right? Are my attitudes and thoughts particularly in line with what God wants from me at those times? Peak religious experiences have waned for me as I’ve gotten older which is a bit disheartening.
My plateau experiences are characterized by a single word: connection. Connection to the Almighty. These are a more frequent experience but they’re still unexpected, unplanned. And I never know when they’re going to happen. They feel like a reward. I’ll settle down to pray in the evening and shaz-zam! There God will be, as close to me as my clothing. During Ramadan this year I prayed for that sustaining connection because with it I feel like I can carry on through almost anything.
Now. Valley experiences. Despair. Mourning. Meaningless suffering. This is where I completely fall apart. I was talking during Ramadan about the lack of connection I was feeling with a friend of mine who is not particularly religious and saying that without it I have a really hard time fasting. “But that’s what faith is,” she said. “Carrying on and knowing God is with you even when you can’t feel Him.”
Oh? It that what faith is. I’m reminded of the story of Job, who had everything taken away from him as a test from God. I tend to just check out from my faith when things are going badly. I don’t blame God but I also don’t seek solace or a change in my circumstance from Him because my sense of bitterness and disappointment when He doesn’t right my ship is too overwhelming. For that reason, religion tends to play a role in my life only when things are going well. During my 20s I experienced a period of prolonged depression during which I rarely sought God. Now that I’m in my mid-40s and everything is basically fine I’m at a perfect point to seek God and so that’s what I’m doing.
I’m a bit jealous of people who find solace in religion when life is hard, because that has not been my experience.
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