What is the spirit? Where do we come from? Where are we going? What happens after this life? What is the purpose of this life? As we struggle to answer these questions, either from day to day or at the approach of death, we all come to terms with some aspect of our spirituality. From Hinduism to Buddhism, from Christianity to paganism, or from atheism to Judaism, humans struggle to find the answers to the questions of life and the afterlife. But the true question that often gets asked is, "Who has the truth? Which religion is the right religion for each one of is? And is there a single religion that contains within it the truth?"
The truth often seems subjective. One truth seems to be more true to one person than it is to another person. I have been raised a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and at the age of eight was baptized, wholly immersed under water and then raised up spiritually cleansed of original sin. I went on a mission to the Tokyo North Mission when I was nineteen and struggled to teach people what I believed to be true. I felt like I was pushing my beliefs onto others and felt I was committing my own kind of sin. I struggled for ten months on my mission (a mission usually is for two years for men), but I felt alone and forsaken during a period of my life that was supposed to bring me closer and closer to God. I, however, felt the furthest away from Him than I have ever felt in my life. I was confused, alone, and just wanted out. I wanted that part of my life to be over, so I took thirty-seven Prozac pills, hoping that someone would listen and praying that the pills wouldn't kill me.
After getting my plane tickets home and living a semi-nomadic life, going from home to home because my parents were on their own mission in Manaus, Brazil, I still felt alone and forsaken. Beside feeling alone, I felt like I was a failure. The one time in my life that I had committed to God and I had failed to stay the whole two years. The weight of guilt on my spirit continued to be weigh on me. I was a sinner and an abomination to God. All I wanted was for life to be over. I just wanted to start over or end it all.
Over the years, I have lost my the faith of my childhood. I have not been to church in a long time and only find myself praying to God when I feel like the world is crashing down around my shoulders. However, in my struggle to find myself in the arms of God, I have looked into other forms of spirituality (Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, etc.) and have still not found that one gospel that feels like home to me. There are parts of Buddhism, Taoism, and Christianity that ring true to me. But how do I take parts of all three and make them central to my beliefs about life, love, and God?
During my search for truth, I was reading from the poetry of Rumi, a thirteenth century poet. In The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks, I discovered there are lots of spiritual metaphors and allegories that began to roll off the pages. In the poem "Moses and the Shepherd," Moses chastises the shepherd because the shepherd gives human qualities to God because "such blasphemous familiarity sounds like/you're chatting with your uncles.../The shepherd repented and tore his clothes and sighed/and wandered out into the desert" (165-66).
After the shepherd abandons his prayers and wanders into the desert, Moses hears God's voice chastising him. God says:
You have separated me/from one of my own. Did you come as a Prophet to unite/or to sever?/I have given/each being a separate and unique way/of seeing and knowing and saying that knowledge./What seems/wrong to you is right for him./What is poison to one is honey to someone else./Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,/these mean nothing to me./I am apart from all that./Ways of worshiping are not to be ranked as better /or worse than one another./Hindus do Hindu things./The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they do./It's all praise, and it's all right./It's not me that's glorified in acts of worship./It's the worshipers! I don't hear the words/they say. I look inside at the humility (166).
God chastised Moses because he took a man from his worship because Moses believed that how the shepherd was worshiping was wrong and he strove to fix the shepherd's wrong worshiping habits. However, to God, it wasn't how the shepherd was worshiping Him, but "it's all praise, and it's all right." God is not looking at how and what the people say when they pray, but He "look[s] inside at the humility" that the worship shows.
When I read "Moses and the Shepherd," I realized that it's not how I worship God, but that I do worship God. It takes humility to turn to someone that you don't know, a higher power, and turn to Him for strength, putting faith in Him no matter how hard life gets. God isn't looking at how I worship him; He is looking at the humility in my heart. So, if I am Christian, Buddhist, Taoist or take properties and teachings from all three, it doesn't matter how I worship. Truth is truth and what might "seem[]/wrong to you is right for [me]" and "What is poison to [you] is honey to [me]." My spirit needs what is right for it and no one else.
The truth often seems subjective. One truth seems to be more true to one person than it is to another person. I have been raised a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and at the age of eight was baptized, wholly immersed under water and then raised up spiritually cleansed of original sin. I went on a mission to the Tokyo North Mission when I was nineteen and struggled to teach people what I believed to be true. I felt like I was pushing my beliefs onto others and felt I was committing my own kind of sin. I struggled for ten months on my mission (a mission usually is for two years for men), but I felt alone and forsaken during a period of my life that was supposed to bring me closer and closer to God. I, however, felt the furthest away from Him than I have ever felt in my life. I was confused, alone, and just wanted out. I wanted that part of my life to be over, so I took thirty-seven Prozac pills, hoping that someone would listen and praying that the pills wouldn't kill me.
After getting my plane tickets home and living a semi-nomadic life, going from home to home because my parents were on their own mission in Manaus, Brazil, I still felt alone and forsaken. Beside feeling alone, I felt like I was a failure. The one time in my life that I had committed to God and I had failed to stay the whole two years. The weight of guilt on my spirit continued to be weigh on me. I was a sinner and an abomination to God. All I wanted was for life to be over. I just wanted to start over or end it all.
Over the years, I have lost my the faith of my childhood. I have not been to church in a long time and only find myself praying to God when I feel like the world is crashing down around my shoulders. However, in my struggle to find myself in the arms of God, I have looked into other forms of spirituality (Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, etc.) and have still not found that one gospel that feels like home to me. There are parts of Buddhism, Taoism, and Christianity that ring true to me. But how do I take parts of all three and make them central to my beliefs about life, love, and God?
During my search for truth, I was reading from the poetry of Rumi, a thirteenth century poet. In The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks, I discovered there are lots of spiritual metaphors and allegories that began to roll off the pages. In the poem "Moses and the Shepherd," Moses chastises the shepherd because the shepherd gives human qualities to God because "such blasphemous familiarity sounds like/you're chatting with your uncles.../The shepherd repented and tore his clothes and sighed/and wandered out into the desert" (165-66).
After the shepherd abandons his prayers and wanders into the desert, Moses hears God's voice chastising him. God says:
You have separated me/from one of my own. Did you come as a Prophet to unite/or to sever?/I have given/each being a separate and unique way/of seeing and knowing and saying that knowledge./What seems/wrong to you is right for him./What is poison to one is honey to someone else./Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,/these mean nothing to me./I am apart from all that./Ways of worshiping are not to be ranked as better /or worse than one another./Hindus do Hindu things./The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they do./It's all praise, and it's all right./It's not me that's glorified in acts of worship./It's the worshipers! I don't hear the words/they say. I look inside at the humility (166).
God chastised Moses because he took a man from his worship because Moses believed that how the shepherd was worshiping was wrong and he strove to fix the shepherd's wrong worshiping habits. However, to God, it wasn't how the shepherd was worshiping Him, but "it's all praise, and it's all right." God is not looking at how and what the people say when they pray, but He "look[s] inside at the humility" that the worship shows.
When I read "Moses and the Shepherd," I realized that it's not how I worship God, but that I do worship God. It takes humility to turn to someone that you don't know, a higher power, and turn to Him for strength, putting faith in Him no matter how hard life gets. God isn't looking at how I worship him; He is looking at the humility in my heart. So, if I am Christian, Buddhist, Taoist or take properties and teachings from all three, it doesn't matter how I worship. Truth is truth and what might "seem[]/wrong to you is right for [me]" and "What is poison to [you] is honey to [me]." My spirit needs what is right for it and no one else.
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