When to ditch your religion?

Question: When is it time to ditch your religion?

Answer: When it no longer works for you.

Beyond doubt religion has played a major role in human life for at least as long as recorded history. Religion has proved a force for immense good (to the chagrin of its detractors) and a force for immense evil (to the consternation of its adherents). Love it or hate it, religion is difficult to ignore.

When I think about religion I mean this: that human complex—stories, traditions, beliefs, rituals and ethics—that helps make sense of the human experience of transcendence. And by the human experience of transcendence I mean experiences of "otherness," "the divine," "oneness," "the holy," "connectedness"—all experiences hard to define but which we might call "mystical." Religion is an attempt to make sense of that mystical aspect of human experience. To muddy the waters: not everyone who practices religion, or who hold to religious ideas, has transcendent experiences; and some (I dare say many) who experience "otherness" have no religious beliefs or practices. Human experience is the fact; religion is an attempt to interpret the fact.

To varying degrees religion does its job. It works. That is until it doesn't work. When religion works it adds meaning to life and gives a sense of comfort and completeness. When religion ceases to work it becomes cumbersome, awkward and embarrassing. The awkwardness is often accompanied by feelings of guilt. Religion ought to work but it doesn't. Religion used to work but now it's empty. Perhaps there is something wrong with me? What did I do to cause such doubts? I meet people often who can't throw of the vestiges of a religious upbringing  and feel bad about it. "I'm a lapsed Catholic," "I'm a cradle Episcopalian," "I'm a former Fundamentalist" are the go-to phrases. Religion no longer works for me but I can't quite ditch it. It's a shadow I can't lose. 

So when is it time to ditch your religion? When it no longer works for you. There's nothing to feel guilty about. 

To be clear, I'm not having a go at religion. Nor am I commending one religion over another. I'm a pluralist. Variety is beautiful. Any religion that works is a good thing. But when your religion no longer works why burden yourself with it?

Perceptive, perhaps frustrated, readers will be wondering: what do you mean by "it works"? Borrowing from William James, I'm using "works" as shorthand for "what works for good." That religion has and does "work" to create division and hatred is true enough, and I don't mean work in that sense. I mean "work for good and not evil." So, two things: the existential and the ethical.

First, your religion works when it gives you a sense of meaning that enriches life. For good or ill the human animal is meaning-seeking and when we lose meaning we are the most miserable of animals. Beyond doubt, religion can be a wonderful provider of meaning. Yet, religion sometimes provides meaning only for a season. Religion also changes over time. And sometimes religion is immature and you grow out of it. 

Second, your religion works when in practice it makes you a better person: a kinder, tolerant, caring, more loving person who seeks the well-being of others. Your religion works when in practice it does not cause harm to others. Your religion is not working if it makes you intolerant of others, bigoted, angry, or violent. 

When is it time to ditch your religion? If it does not pass the existential and ethical test of what works. Good riddance to bad rubbish! It's easier said than done. As a starter you might put religion on the shelf for a while. See if you reach for it. Jane and I have such a practice with clothes. If I've not worn a shirt for a season or two it goes to the charity shelf. If I don't reach for it the next season it is recycled at the Good Will store. Why keep something that no longer works for you? 

With religion it might also be a case of refining. Some of your beliefs change and you let go of them. You let go, too, of old rituals and pick up new ones. You ditch that part of religion that no longer works and keep the good bits. Recently, we were strolling down the boardwalk at the beach. Older original wooden boards sat side by side with newer ones. By the color of the wood you could tell which boards had been replaced in which season. Rather than knock the whole boardwalk down, those who care for the boardwalk rebuild it board by board as the seasons change. They remove the boards that no longer work. It might be like that with religion.

Only religion that works for the good is worth keeping, otherwise do yourself a favor: ditch it!

Enjoy the first day of spring,

+Ab. Andy