Sunday, March 19, 2023

Things Humans Do: Going to Church

A friend and I decided to go to a Bahai service.  We characterized this as anthropological research into "things humans do".  Neither of us are interested in finding a church to belong to, but so many humans do join churches, so it seemed worthy of investigation.

The Bahai religion has its roots in Persia (Iran).  I contacted the local Bahai group via their website and chatted with a woman, who shared details with me about various services we could attend.

Many religious groups find their numbers dwindling, as more of us identify as non-religious entirely, or perhaps 'spiritual but not religious'.  This particular group met in a building that may have originally been a home.  Perhaps 12 people joined via zoom, and we sat with 4 other people in what would have been the living room of the house.

We were warmly welcomed and assured that we could participate with comments, questions, or by sharing prayers if we wanted to.  The opening video made clear that this is an inclusive faith that welcomes people of all races and religions.  The video showed fields of tulips and lots of smiling faces, with a song playing over it all.

After that, we read the 8 readings provided in the pamphlet.  Participants in person and on zoom spontaneously read the readings out loud, one at a time.  Since this coming week is the spring equinox, the theme of the service was spring.  One of the readings stated that everything that happens in nature is symbolic of the spiritual world.  Spring represents a renewal in the spiritual world.

After the readings was a time for prayer.  I was surprised that when participants prayed, they used old english, addressing God as "Thou".  People prayed for the world, for friends who are sick, and for some who had recently died (that God would have mercy and turn shortcomings to good).

Prayer was followed by a discussion of the readings.  One person shared that the Bahai faith illuminates her reading of the Bible.  (She may have said that she is also a Christian.)  Others quoted Bahá'u'lláh, the founder of their faith.  Someone asked about a sentence that says that everything in the natural world has its counterpart in the spiritual world.  She seemed to want to understand what this meant literally. 

....

After I came home, I wrote in my notebook:

What is religion for?

-to bring peace to the world (I read this in a Bahai pamphlet)

-to form community (from a sign outside their building)

-to remind us of our shared values and ideals (this is what I sensed from the participants in the service)


....

Do I want a religion?  Or, what type of religion do I want?

This seemed like a good thing to ponder after this experience.

For the three items I listed above:  

-Peace seems like an important objective for all humans!  I am saddened that there are forces that seem to be working towards increased hostility and agitation, but there are also many kind humans who are caring for other people.  I know religious groups have also done practical caring for the poor and homeless as well.  I feel like I can be a force for peace without being part of a religion.

-Community.  I value my community at work and my community of friends.  It's a little overwhelming to add a different circle of friends from a faith group.  When I was new in town, I joined the Quaker community for a while.  Once my relationships broadened, I didn't feel a need for that additional community any more.  I think all relationships can be part of one's community.  I can see the value in a larger group as opposed to many one-on-one relationships, though.

-Shared Values & Ideals.  This area of my life is really personal.  I read books and form my own guiding principles, and at times discuss them with friends, but a group discussion (like would happen in a church setting) just isn't part of my life.  Sometimes I wish others would adhere to the principles I've chosen for myself, but I have to remind myself that they're free to live with their own philosophies.

...

Here are some of my values:

Undivided Life

-I don't like having to use a different type of language (Thee/Thou, old english) to discuss spiritual matters or address God.

-I've always disliked having to put on special clothes (for example skirts) when going to church.

The theme I sense here is that I value a consistency and undividedness in my life.  Can I be the same person in the various parts of my life?

Messy/Real

-The videos were very beautiful but a little too perfect. I guess if someone wants to be uplifted they can focus on only the beautiful parts of life, but there's so much messiness to make sense of.  

I want to be able to look at all the messy, confusing, hard bits of life.  It's all part of the whole.  I'm always looking for order in the chaos but I don't want order at the expense of honesty or realness.  

Questions

-I sense that people want to have explanations or theories for things.  For example, they want to know exactly what their religion teaches on a certain point.  

I don't really find that useful.  What is a particular group's dogma on what happens after death?  Or what is the relationship one should have with God?  Or is there a God?  How does one access him/her?  These are all unanswerable (if valuable) questions.  I actually don't relate to the desire to have it all figured out/sewn up in a neat package of "these are my beliefs".  

I prefer to hold the questions.  I feel that not having the answers keeps me closer to sensing what is true and real.  Questions are the tool for exploring and cracking things open.

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”


― Rainer Maria Rilke



Sunday, March 13, 2016

spring


It's spring in Illinois.  The air smells different, and many different bird songs surround me when I step outside to try to get some signal on my cellphone.

My trip gave me what I wanted, a sense of the earth.  Bus after bus, hike after hike.  I moved across the Andes, seeing, feeling, smelling, tasting, touching.  A landmass takes time to feel and explore.  My body moved across the land in a thin line, barely scratching it, but the experience lives inside me.  Light, leaves, water, rocks, sky, clouds, snowy mountain peaks.  Conversations in English, Spanish, French, and bits of Portuguese and Quechua mixed in.  Meeting fellow travelers from all over the world, and local dwellers of Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia.

Living with just a few clothes in my pack.  The freedom of solitude, of spontaneous decision making, of anonymously hopping on a bus, minutes after deciding on a destination.  It is a restorative experience.

Three months felt like not quite enough, meaning it was just the right amount of time.  I'm glad to be home.  Time for new things, new directions in life.

Wednesday, December 02, 2015

Illinois sunset

The changing sky last night kept interrupting me as I made a blueberry shortbread dessert.


 The landscape near my mom & dad's house has changed, with the result that our view of the sunset isn't through trees anymore.


 I kind of like the openness.


 The shortbread turned out great by the way.  I made this recipe.


Wednesday, October 07, 2015

west and the van

So I've posted a lot of pictures here.  But how about some words?

Sometimes I feel a little dizzy at all the travels.  It's just over three months that I have been on the road.  There have been some stays with friends or family, and other stretches with long drives, other whiles living out of the van while it sat in one place.

The crazy van idea has worked well.  It's functioned for all the various situations I've put myself into. Hotel parking lots work well in urban areas.  National parks have free campsites and the van worked well off-grid.  It worked well parked in a driveway when visiting a friend.  Parked on a farm.


I officially fell in love with the van in Badlands, South Dakota.  I arrived just before dusk after crossing flat prairies all day.

At one point I saw a butte.  It was a little hint:  you're almost there!


Then I arrived at Badlands.  I stepped out of the van, I felt the dry air, and saw the desert landscape around me.  It felt like the west, all of a sudden!


After the sun set I drove through badlands able to see a little in the dusk (although it was too dark for photos).  I noticed lightning to the south so I parked and watched.  After a while I climbed out my window and onto the top of the van.  Evening breezes, lightning flashes in the distance.  A brief sprinkling of rain.  After a while I laid flat on the roof and watched the Milky Way gradually increase in brightness.

And that is when I fell in love with my van.  It's still white and looks boring on the outside.  But it's a good pal for watching the night sky.



Tuesday, August 11, 2015

photos on instagram

Just because it's easier to do from a phone, I have started posting on instagram.

This is the link, or you can follow me @paulathonney.

Phase 3 of the journey begins now.  Heading over to West Virginia today.

Friday, August 07, 2015

timber frame pavilion


In a couple of weeks I'll be helping to build a timber framed pavilion.  This is a rough sketch of the building, minus the rafters, which will not be timber framed.  A nice basic structure.  Lots of braces.

Hopefully I will have pictures of the real thing to post later this month!

Thursday, August 06, 2015

a passage by Sir Wilfred Thesiger

"For years the Empty Quarter [of the Arabian Peninsula] had represented to me the final, unattainable challenge which the desert offered.  Suddenly it had come within my reach.  I remembered my excitement when [British researcher O. B.] Lean had casually offered me the chance to go there, the immediate determination to cross it, and then the doubts and fears, the frustrations, and the moments of despair.  Now I had crossed it.  To others my journey would have little importance.  It would produce nothing except a rather inaccurate map which no one was ever likely to use.  It was a personal experience, and the reward had been a drink of clean, nearly tasteless water.  I was content with that."

From Arabian Sands, by Wilfred Thesiger.

As I prepare to go timber framing next week, Thesiger's thoughts resonate for me.  I've been offered an opportunity, which opens up a different world.  And I know it's going to be hard at times.  But I'm so glad to have the chance.