In the realm of religion, symbols often serve as the bridge between the spiritual and the physical. Yet, as I've journeyed from the structured confines of Evangelical Christianity to a more individual spiritual exploration, I've observed a paradoxical nature in these symbols. Quite like a two-faced Janus, they have the power to both reveal and hide God, based on their use and interpretation.
If you’ve been subscribed for a while, by now you have noticed that I have been spending a lot of my posts talking about Alan Watts. I’m diving into his books right now and I had no idea the treasure trove that was in them. This post is no different, and much of this comes out of my meditation on the following quote from his book, Behold The Spirit.
“The symbol reveals God, but wrongly used it hides him. An idea, a doctrine, a sacrament, a spiritual exercise hides God when we use it as a means to hold him -that is, when we use it monkey-fashion as a comfortable and convenient technique for acquiring sanctity by imitation. Used in this way religion becomes a series of conventional ideas, conventional feelings, conventional spirituality and conventional good deeds utterly divorced from real life.”
Sacred Symbols
Navigating the symbolic landscape of Evangelical Christianity, and indeed Christianity in its entirety, is an exercise in cultural and spiritual familiarity. As a product of this environment myself, I am well-versed in its symbolism, but even an outsider would find it difficult not to recognize these ubiquitous signs.
A classic symbol, the cross, emblematic of the Christian faith, is a potent testament to this dichotomy. When seen through the lens of faith, it's a striking symbol of Jesus Christ's sacrifice, a tangible reminder of divine love and redemption. However, the misuse of this symbol, akin to the horrors of the Crusades or the white supremacists' twisted ideology, does more to obscure the divine than to reveal it. The symbol that was once a beacon of God's love is manipulated to endorse violence, hatred, and exclusion, thereby hiding the true essence of God.
Similarly, the ritual of baptism, symbolizing spiritual rebirth and divine purification, loses its relevance when it becomes an unthinking tradition or a social acceptance ticket within religious circles. In such instances, this sacred symbol conceals the divine, reducing profound spiritual experiences to mere perfunctory acts.
The Bible, an anthology of divine inspiration and human experience, is also a prime victim of this paradox. Its symbolic narratives, when studied with an open and sincere heart, unfurl the multifaceted nature of the divine. However, selective interpretation of scriptures to underpin personal biases, or to enforce oppressive doctrines, creates a distorted perception of God. The Bible, originally intended to be a compass leading us to God, can then become a smokescreen, hiding the divine behind manmade prejudices.
Communion, a sacrament symbolizing the profound connection between Jesus Christ's sacrifice, believers, and their divine creator, also falls prey to this dichotomy. While it can serve as a powerful reminder of God's grace and the Christian community's unity, it becomes a veiling tool when reduced to a rote act or utilized as a gatekeeper for religious acceptance.
Lastly, religious art and architecture, historically employed to symbolize divine attributes, can also reveal or hide the divine. While cathedrals, paintings, and sculptures can illustrate the divine's grandeur when appreciated appropriately, they may distract from their original intent when they become objects of idolatry or symbols of religious superiority.
Irony in Modern Evangelicalism
In the sphere of modern evangelicalism, a troubling trend seems to have emerged. The sacred symbols that once served as profound reminders of God's character and actions have become idols in their own right, paradoxically obstructing the very truth they were meant to represent.
In the evangelical obsession with literal interpretation, symbols such as the Bible, the cross, or baptism are elevated to a status where their value is rooted not in the truths they signify, but in their mere existence. The Bible becomes an object of worship, rather than a vessel for divine wisdom. The cross, instead of being a reminder of sacrificial love, becomes an accessory that signifies membership in the 'club' of Christianity. Baptism, designed as a transformative spiritual experience, is relegated to a social rite of passage within the church community.
This idolization of symbols leads to a catastrophic spiritual irony: in our eagerness to preserve the sanctity of these symbols, we risk obscuring the God they were meant to reveal. This form of idolatry has caused many within the evangelical movement to become oblivious to the living, breathing truth of God. Instead of guiding us towards a dynamic relationship with the divine, these symbols have become ends in themselves, creating a faith that is more about religious performance than genuine spiritual connection.
Consequently, there is an urgent need to examine our relationship with these symbols, to ensure they serve as conduits to divine truth rather than barriers. The journey towards spiritual autonomy requires a thoughtful navigation of these symbols, appreciating their value while remaining conscious of their limitations. Only then can we move beyond a superficial engagement with faith and towards a deeper, more genuine experience of the divine.
Throughout my spiritual journey, the words of philosopher Alan Watts have been a guiding beacon. "The symbol reveals God, but wrongly used it hides him." We must critically engage with the symbols we encounter, wary of the potential they hold to both reveal and hide the divine. As ex-evangelicals or spiritual seekers of any kind, we must tread the delicate line between acknowledging the symbolic value of these elements and not allowing them to eclipse the spiritual truths they represent.
Religious symbols, like words in a language, have meaning only in their capacity to point beyond themselves. Let us not become so enamored with the words that we lose sight of their meaning. In the quest for spiritual autonomy, let us employ symbols as guiding tools, not as ultimate destinations. And as we tread this path, may we remember that the true essence of the divine lies not in rigid forms, but in the dynamic, vibrant life that refuses to be contained.