The life of faith
Thu, 09 Dec 2004 Filed in:
Journal
There are countless mental frameworks
to describe the variety of life. I think they are all false. Even
theists change their idea of what faith is from time to time (or
should). The point is not to find “the truth”, but to motivate
ourselves. Whatever framework encourages a person to learn is the
right framework at that moment. Thoughts and ideas are simply too
transient and perishable. If we hold to any of them for too long,
it retards progress. So what is a life of faith? Have you ever
fallen madly in love? Do you remember what the world was like
before it happened, and how it was after? If a man, for example,
had lived before you and experienced this, he might say, “There is
someone now living, who will steal your heart and transform the
moments of your days into bliss.” He would say this because he had
experienced it: the kind of transporting, ecstatic joy that is only
to be found in the arms of a beloved. To live without God — and I
mean the reality, not the word — is to live without having known
the Beloved: He to whom worldly love is as a shadow cast on the
ground. If someone tells you that such a Beloved exists, then to
seek Him you must have faith, because the way can be long, painful,
and require much sacrifice. Without faith, one might give up on
search as futile, or believe ultimately that no such love exists.
When I talk about this Being, I mean something that is beyond
thoughts or ideas. It has no name, no description. It is not even a
“being” in the sense of the word. It can only be known through
experience, and even then it cannot be known. We experience it each
day in the things of life, but it’s like sunlight reflected from a
dull rock — or rather, reflected into dull eyes. The true sun is
much brighter. So why have religion? What we seek is profound and
subtle. Look at the confusion that remains, no matter the countless
books which have been written, and the many faiths on Earth. The
answer is too simple. And yet, to be enmired in that complication
is part of the journey, part of recognizing the futility of
thought, and relegating it to its proper role. Morality is an aid
in the search; so are devotion, reverence, fasting, etc. These
things can help to clear the mind, focus the heart, purify the
soul. The teachings of religion are meant to be a guide, but not a
goal. The goal is ineffable. Religion is the science of the
Beloved, and calls mankind by words he can comprehend. Without the
Beloved, religion would just be another framework. Life can be
explained in countless ways. The atheist’s way is just as
compelling as the theist’s way. I’ve found that based solely on
intellectual reasoning, I can be convinced of almost anything. But
the Beloved… He is the element missing from the equation. People
are debating religion, when religion has no intrinsic value. They
are looking past the Purpose, the Goal. You can talk about love
until your face turns blue, but it means nothing. The only real
thing to a lover is the one he loves. People read books on how to
find love, because they want to be ready, and increase their
chances. This is a laudable effort. But alone, it’s like feeding
air to a hungry person. The point of a lover’s life is the one he
loves. Nothing else is real. Until one tastes of that cup, religion
is an easy thing to discard. What does it offer, but restriction?
After that taste, one knows intimately what the point of faith is,
and the purpose of life is abundantly clear. It’s like the lover
attaining to the presence of his heart’s desire, and who suddenly
learns the purpose of his anatomy. Just as the lover cannot find
his love if he stays at home and never ventures out, we cannot find
our Beloved if we stay wrapped up in our many veils, dwelling in
the castles of theory and habit. Religion is principally the art of
unlearning: of tearing down these veils, and prompting us to
venture out and seek Him. Once found, there is no more asking,
“Why? What for?” The why and what for would be like asking a child
why he plays. The true seeker hunteth naught but the object of his
quest, and the lover hath no desire save union with his beloved.
Nor shall the seeker reach his goal unless he sacrifice all things.
That is, whatever he hath seen, and heard, and understood, all must
he set at naught, that he may enter the realm of the spirit, which
is the City of God. Labor is needed, if we are to seek Him; ardor
is needed, if we are to drink of the honey of reunion with Him; and
if we taste of this cup, we shall cast away the world. —
Baha’u’llah This knowledge of the Beloved transforms hearts, and
thereby society. Religion gives us social laws to direct that
ensuing love, and as a result great progress is attained in the
time of each religion’s heyday. But then religion goes into
decline, because the words lose their sense of the Beloved, and
become mere words again. Man reads about love, but cannot find it,
so he turns back to the world. This is when God sends another
Messenger with a new religion, to rekindle the eternal flame.
Through the transformation of hearts, this world can be changed
into a garden, filled with diversity and potential — not only for
the few but the majority. How can people truly love one another,
until they see the Beloved in each person, reflected in every face?
Once life itself is the object of all hopes and wishes, it’s only
natural to commit one’s time and energy to its betterment — in the
same way a lover does for his love.