“Spiritual” practice in a humanist life
I’ve been thinking a lot about the ways in which human beings in religious traditions “practice” spirituality, by means of reciting mantras, memorizing verses, meditating, and so on. As a self-avowed humanist (one who takes humanity as her starting point rather than revelation or god), what room do I have in my life for practice? Do I need it? And if I take practices out of another religion’s context, am I guilty of buffet-style religion?
Biological reasons for spiritual practice
Keep in mind that I use the term “spiritual” loosely, as a catchphrase for what folks tend to think of as contrasted to academic or physical pursuits (it’s something that isn’t just for the mind or the body). As someone who doesn’t want to undertake meditation or scripture memorization or mantras because a holy book or guru tells me to, I have some other reasons. Let’s look at it this way: I am a human animal in world which is, in many ways, out of my control. On a daily basis, I face deadlines not of my choosing, traffic jams I can’t fix, people with motivations that I don’t understand, and weather that changes without taking my plans into account.
There are responses which will raise my blood pressure and put strain on my heart–anger, worry, depression, sadness. It seems unavoidable, though, to get angry at someone cutting me off, or to be depressed by ten days of cold rain when I am aching to go for a bike ride.
“Spiritual” practice, however, can help me retrain my brain away from the seemingly unbreakable connection between stimulus and response. There’s evidence that meditation (which is not necessarily the focus of Buddhist practice, but an element very popular with Western practitioners) can replace the response of anger with that of compassion. In one experiment, monks were presented with the recording of a gunshot–which normal people respond to with irritation and anger. The monks instead do not register a response. (Interview on Beliefnet.)
Ethical reasons for practice
This kind of self-mastery is not only useful in overcoming stress or making my own life better. If I can temper my responses, insert a space between stimulus and response for a considered reaction, I can act in a more considered manner. To me, it seems that one of the foundations of human ethics is the awareness of the humanity of other people. Being able to stand inside of another’s place, or recognize that just as I experience pain, sorrow, joy, etc., so can another–that’s a starting point for developing ethical behavior (I’m talking here primarily about the individual faced with others–not the ethics of the state or corporations, although I think that requires a similar stance).
As someone who values humanity itself as a reason for acting (rather than revelation from a god), I need to explore what humanity is. Meditation can provide a platform from which to reflect, in a more stable manner than the rushed and cluttered mentality of daily life.
What about the rest of the religious practices?
At this point, I have to go back to what I admitted earlier–meditation (or the contemplation of Christ, etc.) is not the focal point of most religions. It is, at best, a component in a larger network of rituals and beliefs. Can I undertake yoga or mindfulness meditation on its own? Doesn’t this turn into the dreaded buffet-style spirituality, of which Westerners (and Unitarian Universalists in particular) are constantly accused?
Yes and no.
First, we need to be aware of the fact that every practice has a context. If I am going to study Buddhist meditative techniques, I’ll run into talk about having faith in the Buddha, past lives, demons and supernatural beings, and so on. I can’t pretend that those don’t exist, and that I am a “Buddhist” just because I meditate and have a few Buddhist images in my home.
But on the other hand, nothing is so fully embedded in its context that it cannot be recontextualized. Is it really a “buffet” spirituality to select techniques integrate with my preconceptions (denying the supernatural, rejecting any revelation as final, valuing humanity’s experience as central)? The image of the buffet implies that I grab some waffles, maybe a bit of tofu, some chocolate pudding, and hey–they’ve got chicken wings, too! Yuck.
Instead, I’d say what we’re doing–or at least what I’m doing (I won’t presume to speak for all Unitarian Universalists)–is to create a meal that is inspired by the cuisines of other religions. There will be some spices that I won’t use, some sauces that don’t quite go with the central theme I’m aiming for… but that doesn’t mean I can’t take up the technique of Buddhist meditation and put it in a new dish. As a humanist, I think that there is something central which connects all of the religions together–they’re practiced by human beings, to satisfy human needs. That makes any practice fair game for thoughtful reappropriation, in my opinion.