Tao

Somewhere deep among the boxes of my scattered possessions there is a cassette tape. This particular tape is approximately 27 years old. On that tape, I can hear myself at the age of three, reciting a bedtime prayer that my grandmother taught me. My parents were not particularly spiritual. I do not recall having ever discussed matters of faith with either of them. My grandmother decided very early on to take it upon herself to introduce my developing and impressionable mind to Jesus, the Holy Ghost, and the Almighty God.

I remember being hauled to Sunday school on a regular basis for a short while, but I do not remember much about what we were taught there. There was a long rectangle-shaped table around which children sat, drawing. I recall being asked if I knew who Jesus was. In time, I learned the answer they wanted to hear: he was the son of God. He had thick, long, auburn hair, and sometimes he had a beard. He wore white robes, and carried a shepherd’s crook. He sat around and talked a lot while people, children in particular, came from all over to listen to him.

My grandmother believes that God is the highest authority and the creator of all things. She also believes that only through acknowledging Jesus Christ as one’s savior and accepting him into one’s heart will one be saved from eternal, post-mortem damnation. Things like the Theory of Evolution do not even exist for her. She attends Pentecostal church meetings regularly and is heavily involved in church activities. She sings and plays her acoustic guitar at funerals and other church proceedings. Sometimes her group will go and sing in hospitals. She and I email each other frequently, and she often mentions how she is praying for me and my wife. She encourages me to study the Bible. For her, these things form the foundation for all aspects of her life.

Very little of what she tried to teach me actually stuck with me. I learned about kindness towards my fellow man and a general appreciation for life. Jesus, on the other hand, remains a character in a colorful book.

I do not believe in sin. I find it difficult to accept the notion that all people, even children, are sinners by default, and therefore destined for eternal pain and suffering unless they truly and honestly take Christ into their hearts. There were many times in my life when I desperately wanted to believe. Occasionally, I would fool myself into thinking that I had, in fact, found God and become part of the Good Shepherd’s flock. But that spiritual enlightenment was always temporary. In the end, I simply could not overlook the idiosyncratic details of all the confusing rules and definitions of Christianity. One moment I would feel like an obedient follower, and the next like a damn fool.

Of all the religions and belief systems I have studied, the only one that is akin to what I believe is Taoism, an ancient religious philosophy. Taoism focuses on humanism, and the order, balance, and link between people and nature. I believe that there is no single divine being and authority, but that all life consists of energy which “flows” through all beings and things. Life is constant movement of that energy. I believe there is no god to worship, but instead one must find their own path through life, pursuing enlightenment, peace, humility, and balance.

On that old tape, my very young self is asking God to claim my soul into Heaven should I pass away in my sleep. Perhaps the underlying sentiment there is the one thing that my grandmother’s beliefs and mine have in common: the hope that, regardless of our shortcomings and failures, in our most fragile hour there will be something to protect and cherish the core of our being – the soul.

Tagged as: Tao, Taoism