A Sermon, of sorts.

I don’t like telling people what they think. So, I don’t. Often enough, though, you can tell.

I think everyone has a religion. It’s just a placeholder word for “how you live your life.” We all choose that for ourselves. If we are careful and lucky, we learn to take responsibility for that choice. Example: I choose to attend worship services at the Church of Christ at the end of my street (hypothetical, okay?) because I agree with what they say they believe. After attending for a short time, I find that they will only sing hymns unaccompanied by piano or other instrumentation; human voice alone. This offends me, so I go shopping for another church. (No offense meant to those who find unaccompanied music part of their moral compass.)
By my actions, you know my religion.

Another example: I do not believe in God, god, or gods, so I choose to go fishing on Sundays, and any other time I can get away (again, hypothetical, okay? Not a fisherman).

This is in contrast to theism, which is a term that I am using categorically to refer to “the gods one chooses to worship.” I know that’s not the dictionary definition. I like mine better. My religion and my theism go together. Mostly. But (and this is why I like my definition better) they don’t have to. I know many people who worship gods that we all know well (money, power, fame) who self-identify as Christian. Capitalized. Sometimes in bold font. I know others who are Muslim. Or Buddhist. Other words are more appropriate. Monetarian. Power-ite. Acclaim-atist.

There are words about this in the book of James, New Testament. Dogen talks about it in his Instructions to the Tenzo, as does the sixth zen patriarch. I have only read the Qur’an through once; I’m pretty sure it mentions the idea. Maimonides speaks of it, and Murshid Sam made two short films about it.

My religion (real one) is kindness. My theism is my family.