I was sitting in Sociology of Religion today, and Chris was giving his presentation on women converting to conservative traditions, such as Orthodox Judaism, conservative Protestantism, and (some forms of) Islam. A lot of it struck me as similar to what I was researching: monasticism in the US. The key word in these conversions, he said, was "disenchantment," particularly with modernity. That's the key word in monasticism, too.

And I was thinking about how it's a pretty key word in my life, too. These women turn away from perceived depravity (Chris often highlighted a dissatisfaction with modern approaches to female sexuality) and embrace something that they see as authentic, true, and whole. Given what I've learned about religions, I have a hard time taking those kinds of claims at face value. But I remember a quote Nathan once referred to us from Reverend Rice, something along the lines of "Something doesn't have to have happened in order to be true." It seems to me that it's a shift of priority of values. Us folks in the academic establishment hold having an accurate picture of what has happened in the world to be of more worth than what inspires us to act in the world and make decisions. And it should do that; we need people to incessantly probe and find what is true, even to the extent that nothing can be found to be true. We need to incessantly test and doubt in order to bring to light what is inaccurate and false, even if that means totally undermining our foundations.

But I think that there's a fundamental problem with it, as well. If one only denies, and never avers, never says, “Well, I don’t know, but let’s give this a shot,” then that, itself, is a profound injustice. To sit on a peak and criticize everything below without contributing anything substantive is, in many ways, equivalent to doing nothing at all. It steps outside (as if one could) and presumes that other people will do the work that needs to be done. Honestly, what is the worth of having an accurate picture of the world in one’s head if nothing ever becomes of it? What’s it matter if someone knows the deepest, most profound truth, if it does not in some way help others? What is the worth of pieces of paper when rape, murder, starvation, addiction endure? I don’t know if I’m making much sense, my stomach is really bothering me right now.

So, sitting in class, I was thinking about my own faith. I was attracted to Buddhism, like many other Americans (as I’ve learned due to my allegiances to the academic establishment!), because it affirms certain principles while not presuming to hold the undeniable truth. “Don’t cause harm, don’t take what’s not given, don’t commit sexual misconduct, don’t drink or do drugs, don’t be deceptive. These things are not evil in their deepest reality, but they harm others and they harm you, so avoid them like the plague, unless they can do some good.” Looking at this, even before getting to the other important aspects of Buddhism, I could question it deeply: How do I decide which precepts to follow? How do I avoid “shopping for religion?” Isn’t it a modern principle that divorces the breaking of precepts from their karmic implications? (That’s not directed so much at myself as at other folks; I do believe in the [conventional] reality of karma.) Isn’t it such a Tibetan approach to Buddhism that I’m taking?

And what’s the point of all of that questioning? Will it really get me anywhere? Perhaps, but perhaps not. What a maddening idea it is that I will die someday. What if I do not have the opportunity to perfectly settle everything before I start practice? Surely, you can’t. Moreover, practice, itself, is supposed to show what is true; you can’t have the ideas correct before you start.

And so I do meditate, and I do other practices, and yet I still doubt myself. I hear about middle-class white kids perverting profound Buddhist teachings in order to justify their social justice efforts, I hear about folks finding in Buddhism a safe place to express their desire for ceremonial ritual, I hear people say that monastics are people who are disenchanted with their lives, with the implication that all they need is a little more serotonin in their lives. And I wonder, is that me, too? Are they seeing me more accurately than I see myself?

They could very well be right. They could be portraying an accurate picture of things. But they might also be missing things. And, more importantly, I just think they’re full of bullshit. People can criticize and find all of what’s wrong, but what if they are missing the beauty, as well? Yes, a lot of Buddhists shy away from the teachings about the nonexistence of the self, but what if they’re finding other things in it? Gracious, I have no idea what to even think. I mean, I, myself, have found myself mentally criticizing other Buddhists for an incomplete portrait of it. And, as I write this, and feel very tired and ill, I wonder if, when I come back to this tomorrow, I will think, “Wow, I was just pissed off, and reifying my sense of self around selflessness.” And of course, even to identify with that is a total contradiction, because it is that self which in the first place is finding the problems.

I am critical of a lot of religious practices, but there is something about many of the more conservative branches that I profoundly respect: they move forward in the face of doubt. They act and do what they understand to be right. That’s something beautiful and worthwhile, even if I think a lot of them could take a lesson from the more liberal ones regarding self-reflection. The answer’s somewhere in the middle, I suppose.