Summary:
No, they don’t walk into a bar, but Pope Francis is back in
the news by way of a New Year’s Day piece by Washington Post columnist E.J. Dionne. A committed Catholic, Dionne
is attracted to Francis’ willingness to question matters of faith and doctrine.
But I write that a more effective effort to achieve a connection to the divine
goes far beyond questioning, and some of my recent reading has led me beyond
Francis to Lord Krishna.
No, they don’t walk into a bar, but the Pope is back in the
news. That’s not terribly surprising, considering he is the Pope. However, the
Washington Post columnist E.J. Dionne, a devoted Catholic who writes frequently
on the subject, had a bit to say about Pope Francis in his column on New Year’s
Day 2015. As a Jewish religious humanist, I was flattered by the many Jewish
analogues that Dionne used to make his point: Rabbi David Saperstein, for many
years director of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism, now the State
Department’s ambassador-at-large for international religious freedom; Dr.
Arnold Eisen, chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary.
But it was Dionne’s first Jewish analogue that most
attracted my attention and seemed to be the main point of the column.
Dionne called his column “Questioning our questions” and quotes the Christian
scholar Jaroslav Pelikan, who cites a Jewish joke about a rabbi whose student
asks, “Why is it that you rabbis so often put your teaching in the form of a
question?” The rabbi replied, “So what’s wrong with a question?” Ha, ha. Get
it?!?!
This is why Dionne is so enamored of the Pope, as am I. As I
have written in another blog post, the Pope is a religious humanist (“Is the
Pope a Religious Humanist?”). He insists on an element of doubt as essential to
a genuine spiritual journey. For Dionne, it was Francis’ question about the
role of gays and lesbians in the church when he posed the rhetorical question
to a group of reporters on his plane, “Who am I to judge?”
However, I don’t believe that Dionne or the Pope take this
quite far enough. It goes way beyond questioning. I was browsing the used book
shelves of my local library the other day. I spotted Yann Martel’s Life of Pi on sale for fifty cents. I
saw the movie, but I have become convinced that the book is always better, so
for fifty cents, what the hell? (Notice my sense of questioning.)
Actually, the movie did not come anywhere near capturing the
sense of the book, at least not in the first 100 pages that I’ve read so far.
It turns out that the book is about religion. It seems that young Pi, raised in
a secular, “modern” Hindu family, had decided as a young adolescent that he
wanted to be a Hindu Catholic Muslim. He told his father that he wanted to buy
a prayer rug and be baptized. His father sent him to his mother, who sent him
back to his father. In the end, young Pi got his way.
Pi explains his approach in one of the most profound
statements of a quest for the divine that I have read in a long time. It’s made
in the course of a denunciation of “fundamentalists and literalists” and
involves a story about the Hindu god Lord Krishna. It seems that Krishna the
cowherd invites the milkmaids to dance with him.
“…the
girls dance and dance and dance with their sweet lord… But the moment the girls
become possessive, the moment each one imagines that Krishna is her partner
alone, he vanishes. So it is that we should not be jealous with God” (Yann
Martel, Life of Pi, Houghton Mifflin
Harcourt, 2001).
No comments:
Post a Comment