The pragmatist William James distinguishes between
"institutional" and "personal" forms of religion. Personal religion
involves a sense of connection to an "ultimate concern," while
institutional religion refers to the organizations that formalize a
particular approach to religious experience. I find that most of my
students understand the word religion to refer to some prepackaged,
institutionalized system of faith and worship involving adherence to
dogma and external authority. This understanding fails to consider
entire dimensions of religious experience, including those found in the
teachings of the institutional founders. The institutionalization of
religion seems symptomatic of the human tendency to mistrust our own
intuitions, which can result in an abdication of responsibility.
The word religion possibly derives from the Latin root "religio"
meaning "to connect," consistent with William James's definition of
personal religion as a sense of connection to an entity, a community,
the natural world, or a more comprehensive sense of our own selfhood.
The intuitions of history's great religious figures generally seem to
emphasize this sense of connection, seen as a personal relationship
with something larger than our narrow sense of self.
Paradoxically, one of the consequences of religious institutions is
that they can serve more to separate than to connect. This is what I
mean by "dis-religion." Socially, we risk disconnection from those who
don't belong to the same institution. Ecologically, we disconnect from
the natural world. We thus risk disconnection from ourselves,
distrusting our own insight and moral judgment.
The word institution can refer to an organization established for
the promotion of an object. Interestingly, the dictionary also defines
institutional as characterized by the blandness and uniformity
attributed to large organizations that serve many people. An
institution can accommodate large numbers of people, and must be
concerned with its own survival and maintenance as well as meeting the
needs of its constituents.
These organizations can be likened to one-size-fits-all clothing.
That is to say, they fit everyone more or less, but don't fit anyone
perfectly. The rules must apply to everyone, regardless of individual
differences. In order to maintain itself, every institution must assume
uniformity. Resources must also be distributed so that the institution
is sustained, which can conflict with the interests of its
constituents. One defense of this is the utilitarian argument that the
institutions need to survive in order to serve the largest number of
people, even if in some cases they find themselves in conflict with
religious concerns.
Religious institutions are traditions, which are always bound to
historically defined perspectives. But some of these perspectives are
no longer viable, such as those that contradict modern discoveries. The
holy texts, as Galileo pointed out when he was accused of contradicting
the Bible, were written for people whose attitudes were less
sophisticated than his contemporaries. While the Catholic Church no
longer insists that the sun travels around the Earth, it does still
insist on other discredited artifacts of medieval culture.
But as attitudes on sexuality change and scientific knowledge
continues to increase, philosophical trends have led to relativistic
concepts of truth. We can no longer justify parochial, Newtonian
notions of absolute right and wrong, involving self-righteous
convictions of God being on our side. When people say, for instance,
"God Bless America," I have to wonder what kind of God wouldn't bless
everybody. This diminishes the idea of God, and can be traced more to
egotism than theology.
If religious institutions aren't meeting the needs of their
constituents, why do they remain so attractive to so many people? This
may be more a psychological question than a philosophical one. Perhaps
humans are a species of followers and lack confidence in our own
insight. We need someone else to tell us what to think and believe. If
someone else didn't say it, it isn't true; if someone else did say it,
it is likely true; and if it is written down especially in the Book, it
must be true. This might help explain the appeal of concepts like
vicarious sin and redemption. Such doctrines suggest that we are
hopeless sinners, but it is Adam's fault, not ours. We can be saved,
but not by our own sacrifice, rather by the sacrifice of a redeemer,
whether Christ or Amida Buddha.
This thinking can lead to dangerous attitudes. Once we forfeit
responsibility for our own morality, we always have an excuse, which
justifies behavior that is clearly immoral, such as exterminating a
people, torturing prisoners, or chopping down rain forests. We find
this attitude, in the Book of Joshua in the Hebrew scriptures, when the
Hebrew people finally enter the so-called Promised Land. Of course, the
land is already populated, but because they have been commanded by God
through the prophets to claim this land as their own, they are
justified in killing the indigenous inhabitants and destroying their
cultures.
This pattern is then repeated throughout human history: during the
Crusades, when the Spanish arrive in Central and South America, when
the French and English arrive in North America, etc. We also find such
divine justification for violent acts against those with whom we
disagree in some of the more radical interpretations of the Islamic
concept of jihad.
The idea of religion as an inherently idiosyncratic sense of
connection to something larger than ourselves can be found in the works
of the founders of the institutions. These institutions always begin
with someone's private experience, and many of these original insights
promote flexibility and non-judgmental attitudes, and, most
importantly, not relying on the authority of an institutional body such
as a church or priesthood. Somehow, however, all of the traditions have
veered from their original trajectory and became exactly that which
their founders rejected.
In the rabbinical accounts, Abraham's father was a maker of idols,
and Abraham first asserts his faith in the God who comes to be known as
Yahweh by smashing these statues. This literally iconoclastic act marks
him as one who rebels against prevailing religious institutions in
favor of a personal relationship with his God. The Abrahamic religion
was not legalistic. There were no rules or codes of law, only this
connection to God and nation–a sense of being a community chosen to
serve as a vehicle for accomplishing God's historical ends.
Arguably, Judaism did not become an institution until the time of
Moses, who provided the legal and ecclesiastical structure which
informed the evolution of the Hebrew religion. It was supposedly during
this time that the priesthood was established and the law strictly
codified. But Abraham, the father of the Jewish religion, did not
provide any such rigid structures. He experienced what I would call a
real religio, an intimate and personal sense of connection.
Jesus, too, according to the Christian scriptures, was
anti-institutional. He encouraged private rather than public prayer. He
was a Jew who reacted against the priesthood, and recommended calling
no man Father or Rabbi because there is only one Father, one Rabbi, one
authority who resides in Heaven. He also seems anti-dogmatic; he
repeatedly emphasized the spirit of the law over the letter of law.
This is evident in his treatment of the Jewish law, such as his
abolition of the dietary code because it is more important to consider
what leaves one's mouth (what one says) than what enters it (what one
eats). Jesus in the Christian Scriptures in general teaches that
people's own sense of conviction is more important than their outward
rank or membership in a particular club. It was left to Paul and the
apostles to establish the Christian institution, the Church, which they
justify in the name of the Christ or the King.
The establishment of the Buddhist tradition was based on a rejection
of what came before. The Buddha rejected the unquestioned authority of
the Vedic texts and priesthood. He taught not to take things on the
word of others, no matter how authoritative they might claim to be, but
rather to verify all teachings through personal meditative experience.
Even on his deathbed, the Buddha admonished his disciples to work
out their own salvation with diligence. In the parable of the raft,
attributed to the Buddha, we are shown that just as a raft, which is
used to get from one side of a river to the other, should be discarded
once it serves its purpose, the teaching of the Buddha is merely a
means to an end, and should not be considered an end in itself. But
similar to the development of the other religious institutions,
successive generations and schisms within the sangha or community have
created a number of "churches" with dogmas and hierarchical
priesthoods, which could not be further from the intentions of the
Buddha.
Despite problems when institutionalized, religion is important. It
provides a grounding perspective, a sense of community, and a sense of
order through ritual and centrality of belief. Even William James
emphasized the pragmatic value of religious experience. The popularity
of many so-called New Age movements and the proliferation of
denominational schisms within the institutions indicate that more
people are concerned about the inability of the available institutions
to address their personal spiritual needs. My shirt is more likely to
fit well if I have it custom-made than if I buy it off the rack.
Today, many members of religious institutions are breaking the rules
of the institution while claiming the rights of membership. Catholics
are avoiding confession and mass, getting divorced, having premarital
sex, practicing birth control, and having abortions. Jews are working
or driving on the Sabbath, disregarding the laws of Kashruth,
celebrating Christmas, and intermarrying. In particular, Americans tend
to believe that they have a right to their own opinion. But religious
institutions are not democracies.
It's unclear to me why anyone would want to be a member of a group
they don't agree with. If you don't agree, you have alternatives. You
can find another club to join, or you can strike out on your own,
independent of any club, just as one can be an athletic person without
joining a team. But if you want to join a team, you must play by the
rules.
It is difficult for people to take responsibility, in this case, for
the expression of our spirituality, because many people don't trust
their intuitions. But as many of the traditional founders say in one
way or another, we must rely on ourselves to find the keys to the
kingdom. Let us hope that we find it possible to reclaim confidence in
our own insight and regain the responsibility and freedom that is our
natural birthright.
© 2009 Policy Innovations