Jason has an interesting post about an article purporting to analyze religion in American politics, but utterly omitting minority reilgions.
Why does this matter? Isn’t it all demographic crystal-gazing? It matters because when terms like “religious left” (and “religious right”) become defined as “lefty Jesus vs. righty Jesus” or even “lefty patriarchal sky father vs. righty patriarchal sky father,” then the voices of the faithful who don’t hold those views are shoved out of the big tent.
I think Jason might be missing the bigger problem. We’re not just shoved out of the big political tent. We’re being shoved out of the language of religion at all. All the time, I hear people say “I don’t like religion” and when asked why, they elaborate “I don’t believe an omnipotent force controls the universe.” People literally don’t know that there is such a thing as religion without an omnipotent and controlling force. They don’t know that there are religions without a complex maze of sin to navigate. They don’t know that there are religions that celebrate all forms of adult consensual sex. They don’t know that there are religions that ask people to think for themselves.
And more than that. Whenever someone says “religious” but means “Christian” (or, in a burst of ecumenism, “Christian and Jewish and perhaps, maybe, a little, my personal distorted idea of Muslim”) the idea is reinforced that the rest of us don’t have “real religions.” People still think like Sgt. Howie; we have “fake religion.”
Language (says the writer) shapes what we know. When we say “religion” but mean “majority monotheistic religion” we continue to know only those majority monotheistic religions as the real thing. We reinforce the notion that Wiccans and Hindus and Native American religionists are fluffy, or odd, or primitive, or flaky, or otherwise just not right.
I don’t really have much to add to your thought here other than it is definitely some food for thought.
I also reminded me of a recent event in my life where I was speaking with my father. I really shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was but I found my mother views my “pagan” (shamanistic) path as me being in a cult (despite the fact I am solitary) and not a religion. Part of my extended family does not call me religious either, despite the point that I consider myself to be so, they consider me to be, but misguided (note: religion to them is Christianity.) Though *chuckles* I must say in return I call them misguided for seeing religion in such a way.
Even in a google search for the definition of religion the first example given of the word used in a sentence is: “he was raised in the Baptist religion”.
Yes, Deborah! You’ve nailed it. Thank you.
I’d have to agree with you.
http://www.xanga.com/sari0009?nextdate=4%2F6%2F2006&cal=1
You are absolutely right, Deborah. I’ve encountered this many times — people who don’t consider themselves religious, but continue to view the world through a Christian filter. The possibility that there might be an alternative isn’t even on the radar.
A personal story: A pastor kept coming to my workplace trying to get me to go to his church. Finally, I said I wasn’t interested, that I wasn’t “a friend of the Church” (this is a common expression among Cubans). He replied, “Oh, I see, you’re an atheist.” Naturally. After all, if you’re not Christian, you must be an atheist.
I have heard many people say you are either a Christian or an atheist, or that saying you are Pagan means you are an atheist.
Even more often, I’ve heard people say “I don’t like religion at all because…” and then say something that applies only to Christianity.
Sometimes I feel sad for them—there’s a universe of possibilities for their spiritual expression, and they are absolutely convinced it’s one or none.
(I don’t even know if I’m doing this right; commenting. Should I still have to fill in my info if I have an account in here?)
As you know, I used to work in a poster/framing shop.
We had a religious section.
Occasionally I was asked where the religious posters were located.
Twice, maybe three times in nine years, did I feel snarky enough to ask “What religion?”.
Okay, that’s like the perfect example. (Looks like commenting worked fine. Not sure about the account thing, to tell you the truth. Pure amateur here.)
Yeah, I’m good like that (perfect example-wise).
And now my information is autmatically filled in.
Imagine my comment relief.
Phew.