RELIGION FOR ATHEISTS

(Sorry it has taken me so long to post this - moved house and forgot which computer it was on.)

In a previous post I reported I was reading Religion for Atheists by Alain de Botton, a book which seemed to be the answer to many questions about what it is that strikes me as special about the country of Mexico, especially the religious aspects of the country.  Trained as a sociologists I kept thinking I saw “community”, that thing which sociologists felt had been in decline since 1850.  Indeed Auguste Comte (1798-1857) the French sociologist, who first applied the name to a field of study, made significant contributions to our understanding of societal developments before attempting to create a religious-like program which would accomplish what religion had done previously. He saw community disappearing and wanted to rebuild it without religion.   F. Toennies (18551936) made sociology’s concerns clearer when he developed the concepts of Gemeinschaft and Gesellschaft, the former term usually translated by “community” or a society held together by emotional and personal relationships.  In this state  we come to know each other more holistically, we tend to be more open and authentic and we feel more obliged to help others.  The later is modern society where contractual relationships (at work, shopping and so on) bind people together.  We live in a less charged emotional world, always try to present our best face and don’t really know those we even call friends.  In the latter phase there is much less constraint on the ego and too often it “runs amok”.  It creates the “me” generation and many of the other ills of society; the self is homeless and the ego becomes dominant and no one want to tell you when your behaviour is inappropriate since “nobody is the boss of me”.

Friederick Nietzsche (1844-1900) coined the phrase “God is dead”, among others, and with this phrase encouraged us to abandon a belief in God.  Religions were non-rational and humans, having created God, were capable of developing a rational basis for living, for morals, for relationships and so on.

Into this context comes the book Religion for Atheists.  It begins by suggesting the most boring question to ask is: is religion true?  It is very simple to suggest that God and many of the stories of the Bible, or of any religion, do not stand up to the test of science.  If instead we accept that God is dead and the various unsupportable claims made by religions are dismissed:  What is left of religion?  Is it of any use?   To often the answer draws upon another concept from Nietzsche, “the bad odour of religion”, and we tend to reject everything. Even a hint of morality turns people off.  All religions and their 2500 years of thinking about the human condition are dismissed.  Nothing is left and we are on our own.  We would rather believe the most recent research by psychologists than consider issues humans have thought about for centuries.  We tend to believe that the past teaches us nothing.

Botton suggests that all religions have two broad goals:  First “the need to live together in harmony, despite our deeply rooted selfish and violent impulses.  And second, the need to cope with terrifying degrees of pain which arise from our vulnerability to professional failure, to troubled relationships, to death of loved ones and to our own decay.”  God may be dead but these two important needs continue to haunt us.  Botton attempts to scavenge religious books to separate the non-rational from the helpful, suggesting there are many ingenious concepts with which to understand and perhaps solve the ills of secular society.  If self-help books can be helpful why not 2500 years of religious thought.

The Catholic mass is a beginning point.  The mass works to breakdown many of the social divisions which separate us.  People of all work, income or status groups come together to share, listen, sing and pray together.  We are reminded very quickly that we are all in this together, we want the same attention and love from God.  Second, we all listen to a very moral language and its lessons are repeated over and over.  Third we are surrounded by the great moral figures of our history in the form of statuary. Fourth, the rituals of the occasion are often repeated and the audience plays an important role, responding to requirements to pray, to sing and to recite very common lines.  All of these help unite people and the repetition drives home simple but important messages.  Fifth, the very building in which the mass is conducted has been intentionally created to make us look up, be quiet and to realize how small we are.  Our egos are all put in their proper place.

Botton includes a whole chapter on architecture and I was struck by the debate which emerged during the reformation.  Protestants were incensed at the money spent on Catholic churches and the extensive use of art work, statuary and so on.  Protestants argued that the bible alone could work just fine even if in a simple home surrounded by the squalor of the growing industrialization.   Catholics argued that we could only be uplifted in a beautiful location and they went on a building spree to illustrate their beliefs. It does seem that the Protestants were wrong on this issue and we now all appreciate the value of beautiful building, parks, streets and the value of untrammelled nature.  All of these things appear to heal the spirit and protect it from the roughness of many parts of the community and of life.

The author also takes us back to 1792 when revolutionary France separated the state from the Catholic church.  Three days after this declaration the state opened the Louvre gallery, filling many of its rooms with objects stolen or confiscated from church buildings.  In later years the theft of artifacts from churches further afield filled the halls.  The museum was supposed to perform the same goals as the church but how were we to look at these works of art?  Were we to pray?  Simply adore them?  What?  Rather than to learn moral lessons from art we were expected to learn facts.  This latter objective is often revealed in the museum-gallery itself -  the development of art from 1650 to 1750, the art of painter X, the development of the style y.  Lost of course is the moral point of view, we no longer look at a piece of religious art and find our self melting away and becoming part of the “other” - leading to opening ourselves, becoming less egotistical, more compassionate, thinking about the world, etc.  Instead we are urged to examine the use of brush strokes, of colour, of perspective.

Similarly when society set out on its secular path the universities said they could do what churches had previously done, particularly through the departments of humanities.  Through the great literature of the world they would expose us to the human condition and to solutions to very human problems - grief, relational problems, our own vulnerability and failures.  An examination of most universities however, shows that these grand ideals have been replaced by academic issues.  We are introduced to surveys of the development of narrative, the style of 3 modern authors, the use of metaphor in literature, and so on.  Lost is the moral instruction promised and we are left with a number of valuable books which we may read once and are left to gather our own lessons from the material.  We are presented with more books than the great authors ever dreamed of and yet our souls remain untouched.  If it were the church, students would read less, reread more often and read with the intention of exploring the moral dilemmas inherent in the stories.

Botton does not confine himself to Catholicism, drawing useful lessons from Judaism and Buddhism.  One example from Judaism is the day of atonement when you are required to review the past year to identify instances when you hurt someone.   You are then required to seek them out and apologize.  The receiver is obliged to appreciate your thought and effort and to forgive.  In this way small hurts are dealt with before they become disruptive of relationships.  In Buddhism we find the practise of meditation where one is led through a process of breathing, focussing on elements of the body until the ego is silenced if even for a few moments.   With repetition the ego is tamed and one is more open to your own needs and to the  needs of others.

If all of this can be generalized it is by seeing that these religions see the self (or our ego) as a source of a great many problems.  They have each found useful solutions in order to reduce the barriers between people, to take us out of ourselves so we can appreciate others, to impart moral lessons, to imagine the suffering of others, to talk about our feelings and vulnerabilities and to live and work together. All religions realized another important part of the human condition:  we all have best of intentions but forget our commitment shortly thereafter.  This is most clear to us on January 10 when our New Year resolutions are broken and put away until next January.  Religions are built around practice so that we continue to hear that voice in our head - “keep pedaling”.

Reading this book has given some clarity to why it is that I do not believe in God and at the same time get weepy when I witness community events and religious ritual in Mexico.  I have always thought it was about more than the God thing.

NOTES ON A RELGIOUS FESTIVAL - PART I

This post (the first of three) attempts to describe and give my impressions of the Fiesta for Nuestra Senora de la Salud in Pátzcuaro. This Virgin is unique to this town (having been made Patrona de Pátzcuaro in 1737 and having a coronation in 1899, making her a Queen) and her day, December 8, is perhaps the biggest day in the calendar of the pueblo. The most fascinating event is the mass held for the indigenous people of the region. On entering the Basilica one is presented with a series of stain glass windows around the upper reaches of the church depicting the history of this virgin. The story begins with the indigenous people, their encounter with the Spaniards and then the arrival of the Catholic church represented by Don Vasco, a local hero. Then we see Salud crowned by the Pope and witnessed by the King of Spain. So the indigenous people are depicted as having a long and positive relationship with the church.

Mass is given in the Purépecha language and the indigenous people play a very large part, giving the event its memorable texture and feeling. Their typical brass band provides the music, women read the scriptures and most of the singing is in the almost falsetto voice of the indigenous men and women. Only a few of the elements of the day are described here and my interpretations may be very wrong.

Facing the alter were 8 Moor dancers (la danza de los Moros), standing for the entire mass. Their dance attire is very special with blue capes and white hats on the women and white capes with blue hats on the men. The hats are not very common anymore, looking like three small stacked pillows in rich fabric adorned with beads, feathers and silver fish. The women’s capes were covered in gold stars and their aprons with flower-like shiny objects and three discreet bows. The men have colorful leggings and boots with substantial spurs. The Moors are always present for the celebration of patron saints and this would explain their presences at this mass. The Moors represent the Catholic victory over infidels, (and perhaps in a more general sense, the world), meaning the Muslims, and their conversion to Christianity. The Spanish Inquisition emerged because this conversion was often temporary or feigned. Nevertheless, the Moors standing in the church represent this conversion and in a more direct sense the conversion of the indigenous peoples of Mexico.

At one point the priest goes to the front door and invites in a small procession of men and women. The men are blowing the conch shell and the women carrying a rather large platform bearing a book. I was not sure what the book was, perhaps the Book of Luke. The priest received this book, holding it high for all to see, opening to a page with an image which he kissed. Passages were then read from this book.

The priest then approached the front door again and invited in a group of 60 women, dressed in traditional clothing and wearing or carrying the distinctive shawl of the area, bearing baskets of food as offerings. They were led by men blowing the conch and a woman carrying a traditional container with smoking copal. The women danced down the central aisle, up to the alter where they handed their gifts to the priest who kissed each offering and passed it to another priest to place around the alter. The copal burner was then held high by the priest and he walked around the alter with it before leaving it to distribute its magnificent aroma. The Moors who had left quietly to join this procession, then resumed their central place. Were they in this act making an offering of themselves, showing their submission to God and the church?

While all of this was going on a group of about 10 concheros (representing the prehispanic people) were dancing outside the doors. They too, however, were dancing before an image of the virgin in a chair with baby Jesus as well as another image of Guadalupe. At the end of the mass the Moors gave a presentation of their historic dance. This dance was followed by a group of Purépecha women in colourful traditional clothing doing a dance of the torito, a small and colourful bull held over the head of one of the dancers. (Apparently the torito was the indigenous way of making fun of the Spaniards and their bulls. But they clearly weren’t making fun of the Spanish Christians. I think there are other ways to interpret some of this dance which I will try to talk about later). At the same time Los Mojigangas (15 feet tall giants) were doing their dance and passing the hat. In another corner of the church yard the viejitos (old men) were dancing. This historic dance too was a way of teasing the walking and posture of the older Spanish, perhaps even the priests. So we have this lovely mixture of teasing and subservience. An interesting display of the power structure of the community and perhaps the nation. In the next two posts I will comments on this events and its relationship to the power structures of the town and then on its religious significance.

MYSTERY IN A MEXICAN VILLAGE

Stand still! Listen to the church bells. The funeral procession approaching. The fireworks announcing the beginning of a celebration. The sound of the band as a carnival procession approaches your street. Sometime I think I hear something invisible, something I can almost see. Perhaps the spirit, or what others have called the collective conscience or the ties of community bonds.

This invisible something becomes most powerful during certain celebratory events with great community participation. Events such as the celebration of Easter. As a non-Catholics I do not appreciate the religious symbolism and as a member of a secular, individualistic culture I do not fully grasp what is happening. But I do feel emotion rising in my chest as I follow along as a non-member. Following the Palm Sunday celebration with Jesus retaking the walk into the city of Jerusalem followed by his disciples, angels, incense burners and a large group of believers waving palm boughs, one senses a ritual being reenacted for yet another time and probably with many of the same community members involved. Then entering the church to see a full church standing, waving their palm boughs and repeating: Christ is King”, even the non-believer experiences something. What is this?
Observing the story of Jesus’ betrayal, the trial and then sentence by Pilot, the whipping and then the procession to Calvary, again one senses the importance of ritual and not a tourist performance. The actors are all local people and yet the performance is professional, the costumes believable even if you look closely and see the Roman helmets include old broom heads painted gold, the actors give no hint of over acting or of signaling that they feel foolish or are just playing. Then as you watch the procession proceeding with Jesus carrying a large cross and stopping at some of the ‘stations’ one begins to sense the enormity of the undertaking and the emotional power of ritual. Watching the three crosses being raised with Jesus bearing his crown of thorns one again has a strong sense of something mysterious just about to be revealed. But what is it?

During the procession of silence this invisible something again pulls at you. The procession begins as night is about to fall and among other things includes a large image of Jesus carrying the cross or on the cross and a large image of the grieving Mary. The participants in the procession also include young people carrying many of the ritual items – the hammer and nails used for the crucifixion, the dice and vinegar, the crown of thorns, white linens to wrap the body – a group of angels, many groups in barefeet and covering their heads in pointed hats with only holes for their eyes, and a drummer who beats out a mournful sound throughout the procession. Most are dressed in black and carry red candle lights. As the procession winds through the town everything appears to go quiet except for the haunting sound of the drum. On one block on a residential street, every household has adorned the street with pine needles, erected alters, decorated the sidewalks with bows and colorful hoop holding candles. What is it that is in the air? What do I feel?
The resurrection procession is quite different as it now includes a large image of Jesus rising from his burial place and an image of the local Virgin. The music on this occasion is happy and the procession is accompanied by the lighting of colourful fireworks as the group passes each church along the route. The procession culminates in a large outdoor mass and then the ritualistic blowing up of Judas (and perhaps a local politician or two). These last events appear to alleviate the burden of the past three days as people hold their ears during the Judas blasts and dodge the sparkling “foot chasers” let off from the fireworks attached to Judas.
One is drawn to all of these events in part by the spectacle itself but more importantly by the strong representation of collective emotion and community solidarity in paying for and supporting these events. It is the ritual that is important and not the spectacle. The ritual appears to tie people to their community, to their beliefs, and uses emotion to give a sense of identity and belonging. It reminds us of what has been lost in more secular countries where our attempts at widespread participation is turned into a commercial events and the police are required to deal with the drunks. We come away from secular events remembering only the spectacle and not feeling a strong attachment to the community or our neighbors.