I have considerable -- sometimes enormous -- sympathy for the criticisms leveled at religion or spiritual life. By history and analysis, the ground is littered with evidence of delusion and cruelty. Blood soaks the soil within and without. This is serious.
And I have some sympathy, though seldom enormous, for the ringing endorsements of religion and spiritual life. Here is a realm in which human beings are invited to test out the flight patterns etched by what Abraham Lincoln called "the better angels of our nature." And this too is serious.
In the wake of the "Christmas Truce" of 1914, German, British and other generals participating in World War I went ape-shit. Without authorization, without approval, and in contravention of the bloody massacres expected in any decent war, troops from both sides chose to lay down their arms, exchange Christmas gifts, sing carols and even play a little soccer. The troops didn't ask. They just did it. (Here is a folk-song remembrance of that stunning truce.)
Men sworn to kill each other simply stopped. Men who took orders and followed the rules ... simply stopped. For however brief a moment, there was no hierarchy or format. There were no generals and no governments. There were no banners or goals. There was just, perhaps, "the better angels of our nature." How simple. How easy. How moving.
And how deeply distressing.
The Christmas Truce of 1914 ... 100 years ago ... 100 years ago NOW.
From the point of view of those who had formatted the war, it was apostasy: How could a general be a general without troops to toe his mark? This was a profoundly-frightening anarchy -- the kind of stuff that might scare even those who praise the generosity of spirit.... You've got to have rules, right? But from the point of view of those who participated in the actual fighting, hell, it probably made some deeply human common sense: The better angels of our nature. Plain and simple, no frills necessary ... natural.
Religion and spiritual adventure offer a realm in which "the better angels of our nature" can try out their wings or anyway they can provide a space for investigation that may seem difficult in the wars that beset everyday life. The better angels of our nature may be as simple and easy as falling out of bed, but they are not always simple and easy. Religion and spiritual adventure offer a socially-acceptable space in which to snoop a capacity that may be sensed but is hard to put into action.
But religion and spiritual adventure can also provide a realm in which the generals go to work ... you've got to have rules, right? And as soon as anyone starts praising the angels of our better nature, as soon as the ritual and liturgy stake their claim ... the better angels of our nature are lost from view. The heart wobbles and is bereft. Where is the simplicity and ease of exchanging gifts or singing carols or playing soccer on the battle field? The generals of spiritual life (within or without) are no different from the generals of World War I -- they too can go ape-shit when what is simple and obvious just becomes simple and obvious.
How kind spiritual adventure and religion can be in one sense. And simultaneously, how cruelly inept.
Behold the rebellion within the ranks ... the rebellion which has nothing to do with fighting and everything to do with just living. The breath comes in and the breath goes out: What general or religion could top that? It may be scary, but I think it's worth checking out.
The better angels of our nature do not go to war and they don't concern themselves with blessings either. To see a child ripped limb from limb is not on their agenda any more than singing hymns or praising volubly is.
Simple.
Easy.
At home ... with a relaxed ease that never mentioned anything as gooey as "home."
Take a break.
Christmas is coming.
Buy something nice for your sweetie.
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