One Sunday, I was driving up Makakilo Drive when I saw, sitting on a bus bench, a tiny, elderly Southeast Asian woman. She was dressed in a business suit and angled on the bench to face traffic. In her hand were leaflets that she showed to drivers passing by.
My imagination created a story for her. She was a member of one of the evangelical churches meeting nearby. Her pastor has preached a sermon exhorting members to follow the charge at the end of the Book of Mathew to go out into the world to preach the gospel. She was far too shy to preach, but she could, and would, pass out leaflets.
There was little chance a driver, accelerating up the hill, would stop. A pedestrian did, a young man walking toward town. She offered him a flyer. He took it. Neither spoke, He was well down the hill before he crumpled the paper. She continued to face the traffic.
Later that day, I was working in the yard when several well-dressed people approached on foot. The older man greeted me and commented on how there is always something to be done in one’s yard. It seemed obvious that they were from a church group, and he confirmed my hunch by asking if I had a few moments to watch a video about reading the Bible.
He was gracious as I explained that we are Congregationalists, part of the United Church of Christ, so no, I would not take those few moments to watch his video.
As they left, I remembered another time and place where Judy and I asked a question that can be hard to answer.
What do your beliefs, particularly your religious beliefs if you have them, require of you?
The other time and place was a late morning at Bat Cave Temple on southeastern Bali. We saw a long line of men and women waiting patiently in the hot sun carrying loads of fruits and vegetables as offerings. The line moved, but slowly. It seemed that every person endured considerable discomfort waiting in that line. We were hot and sweaty just watching.
We asked ourselves, what do the faithful do in our country that might compare to this line of believers? More to the point, what do we do?
Students of mine who are Mormon have taken two years out of their young lives to go away from home to share their beliefs. I am certain that not everyone responds kindly to a knock on the front door by two people wanting to talk about their faith. Canvassing members of Jehovah’s Witnesses could likely tell similar stories. How intense must one’s belief be to endure daily rejection because you want to share it?
In history, how many wars have been rooted in religious belief and rivalry? How many religions have claimed to be the one true faith?
The woman on the bench was a far cry from a Crusader or a jihadist, in terms of the nature of her action. Yet she was not content just to attend church regularly, tithe, and pray for the sick.
In the poem “The Second Coming,” W.B. Yeats write: “The best lack all conviction, while the worst, are full of passionate intensity,” in describing a world in which things seemed to be falling apart because the center cannot hold. I have not held conviction with passionate intensity; I don’t feel myself to fit either of Yeats’ extremes.
In fact, I have lived thus far resisting extremes, or so I believe. We People of a Certain Age might inevitably grow past any extremes of youth as a function of aging. But I think our upbringing in 20th century American bred us for moderation, anti-war and civil rights demonstrations notwithstanding. There has been safety in the center, right?
So it has seemed in terms of religious conviction as well. The majority of religious Americans call themselves Christian. Most Christian churches have programs to feed the hungry and visit the sick. Few Christian churches expect members to go door to door with leaflets. Fewer still would seriously exhort members to take up arms to defend the faith.
My friends who do not hold religious convictions might be reassured about now that they have avoided the situation I have described. Maybe they are the lucky ones.
My beliefs require me to act kindly and generously. Would I act otherwise if I did not believe? My belief expects me to model charity toward others without asking me to knock on the doors of strangers to explain my belief. My belief includes the importance of churches and their collective work to serve the needs of others without asking me to stand in line with fruit as an offering.
My belief does not ask me to take up arms or sit on a bench passing out leaflets. My belief seems free of passionate intensity.
Daniel E. White
July 11, 2016