Chiming in as a new subscriber a year later: I grew up in liberal churches, where doctrine was more a matter of suggestion and discussion than a set of demands. Our mother pulled us out of the Catholic church because she didn't want us to feel guilty about using birth control, figuring God wouldn't mind if we hadn't been taught the doctrine. (I never got a white dress for First Communion, but I had already come to appreciate the still-Latin Mass and gotten a grounding in theology in parochial school.) I remember every bit of that theology, because somehow I came into the world keenly interested in theology and spiritual matters. I was ready to baptize the local kids with a garden hose if needed.
Since any dysfunction in my own churches was at the leadership level, while the communities were fine, I ended up with a deep respect for churches and religion in general. If someone is writing about religion, I'll allow them much more authority if they have actually lived "within" a religion. People without this experience are clueless as to how the stories, aesthetics, concepts, communities and culture of "lived religion" become part of our personal framework for finding meaning. Harm from dysfunctional communities happens in any human community whether it's a church or not. Logical propositions like "does God exist" have little to do with mature religious understanding.
Many in these hyper-rational times see the question of God's existence as somehow scientific and never go beyond it. They think this reveals enough about religion to pass blanket judgment on the entire notion.
As for those who find themselves moving beyond the religious teachings of their childhood, whether they remain within a tradition or not, there's nothing wrong with following the old AA maxim "take what you need and leave the rest." (I'm going to have to think hard about the notion that religion is more "defined" than humanism, by the way, although the world's religions certainly have longer legs timewise.)
In this essay, Elle's story of Séverine ends with Séverine's understanding of the most important message of Christianity. Séverine has to leave the Church before she can be a Christian. Spiritual evolution continues no matter what we are proclaiming about our beliefs at any moment.
As a humanist (a religious humanist?), Elle is exploring beauty as a humanist practice and source of inspiration. I'm new to this Substack, but I want to see what happens with this pursuit. My big question about humanism in general is whether it can satisfy humanity's needs for personal and collective frameworks of meaning, inspiration for getting through hard times, and motivation for social and cultural change. Religions can and do provide all these things. In addition they have historical know-how about avoiding dysfunction and extremism (even if as human institutions they often fail in this.) Is humanism willing to learn from religion?
I really felt this in my bones. I grew up in the church. I agree about the beauty. My church was in the middle and nowhere, with a small congregation. We still had detailed statues, intricate priest robes, and fine objects. I admire beautiful churches, but also, wonder what good it does for its people.
I knew at a young age, after first communion, that the church didn't feel right for me. But I didn't have a choice. My oldest brother wouldn't allow me to take communion without confession, so I sat in the back of the church during my teens, while everyone went up. There's lots of reasons I left, but I couldn't live with the hate. I feel such a difference in my physical body and in my heart now. I find beauty in nature.
We talk to our son about it like they are stories, like anything else.
Thank you for the shoutout Elle! I must admit, my utopian answers are entirely based on a simple question: what gives me joy when all of the humans in my life have worked my last nerve? Bread! Animals! Paramore!
This look into your spirituality was very interesting. Beauty itself is such a nebulous idea; trying to define it takes millennia. And so many definitions of it can exist at the same time! Catholic architecture and Islamic architecture are so beautiful but so distinct from each other. But beauty, like evil, is expansive. It can shapeshift into anything.
Maybe anything can be beautiful if it’s created with sincerity.
You’re a fabulous writer! Learning more about your perspective always prompts me to reconsider my own. I wonder if the beauty you saw in Catholicism was more so the beauty in humanity’s devotion. If that’s the case then in a way you’ve been a humanist all along! 💖
Thank you for sharing an overview of the deep and intimate processes you have gone through. Self-revelation is difficult to write about, let alone expose to the world. It is clear from your post that you have lived (are living) an examined life. How rare that is today. Excellent!
As you admit, humanism is a difficult construct to pin down. Therefore, your literary choice to employ a lower case ‘h’ is brilliant. I do this as a libertarian, but alas, friends and family alike, miss the point.
It is easy to respect someone like you, who is entirely thoughtful and sincere. Someday, I would enjoy sharing thoughts of love, hope and other spiritual delights with those who I esteem. You have made it to that eclectic list of persons. Until then, keep up the good work.
Thank you for sharing your faith and creative journeys!
I’ve been on a similar path, looking for something hopeful to believe in. Humanism is pretty close to where I’m heading, but I’ve got some cynicism and old faith structures still “burning down” inside.
I’m looking forward to a brighter day and I know the things I used to believe in will provide good ground for something better.
All that to say, what you wrote is very beautiful and guiding. Thanks for being vulnerable!
Recently saw this article and remembered this post of yours https://scrollprize.org/grandprize
Chiming in as a new subscriber a year later: I grew up in liberal churches, where doctrine was more a matter of suggestion and discussion than a set of demands. Our mother pulled us out of the Catholic church because she didn't want us to feel guilty about using birth control, figuring God wouldn't mind if we hadn't been taught the doctrine. (I never got a white dress for First Communion, but I had already come to appreciate the still-Latin Mass and gotten a grounding in theology in parochial school.) I remember every bit of that theology, because somehow I came into the world keenly interested in theology and spiritual matters. I was ready to baptize the local kids with a garden hose if needed.
Since any dysfunction in my own churches was at the leadership level, while the communities were fine, I ended up with a deep respect for churches and religion in general. If someone is writing about religion, I'll allow them much more authority if they have actually lived "within" a religion. People without this experience are clueless as to how the stories, aesthetics, concepts, communities and culture of "lived religion" become part of our personal framework for finding meaning. Harm from dysfunctional communities happens in any human community whether it's a church or not. Logical propositions like "does God exist" have little to do with mature religious understanding.
Many in these hyper-rational times see the question of God's existence as somehow scientific and never go beyond it. They think this reveals enough about religion to pass blanket judgment on the entire notion.
As for those who find themselves moving beyond the religious teachings of their childhood, whether they remain within a tradition or not, there's nothing wrong with following the old AA maxim "take what you need and leave the rest." (I'm going to have to think hard about the notion that religion is more "defined" than humanism, by the way, although the world's religions certainly have longer legs timewise.)
In this essay, Elle's story of Séverine ends with Séverine's understanding of the most important message of Christianity. Séverine has to leave the Church before she can be a Christian. Spiritual evolution continues no matter what we are proclaiming about our beliefs at any moment.
As a humanist (a religious humanist?), Elle is exploring beauty as a humanist practice and source of inspiration. I'm new to this Substack, but I want to see what happens with this pursuit. My big question about humanism in general is whether it can satisfy humanity's needs for personal and collective frameworks of meaning, inspiration for getting through hard times, and motivation for social and cultural change. Religions can and do provide all these things. In addition they have historical know-how about avoiding dysfunction and extremism (even if as human institutions they often fail in this.) Is humanism willing to learn from religion?
I really felt this in my bones. I grew up in the church. I agree about the beauty. My church was in the middle and nowhere, with a small congregation. We still had detailed statues, intricate priest robes, and fine objects. I admire beautiful churches, but also, wonder what good it does for its people.
I knew at a young age, after first communion, that the church didn't feel right for me. But I didn't have a choice. My oldest brother wouldn't allow me to take communion without confession, so I sat in the back of the church during my teens, while everyone went up. There's lots of reasons I left, but I couldn't live with the hate. I feel such a difference in my physical body and in my heart now. I find beauty in nature.
We talk to our son about it like they are stories, like anything else.
Thank you for the shoutout Elle! I must admit, my utopian answers are entirely based on a simple question: what gives me joy when all of the humans in my life have worked my last nerve? Bread! Animals! Paramore!
This look into your spirituality was very interesting. Beauty itself is such a nebulous idea; trying to define it takes millennia. And so many definitions of it can exist at the same time! Catholic architecture and Islamic architecture are so beautiful but so distinct from each other. But beauty, like evil, is expansive. It can shapeshift into anything.
Maybe anything can be beautiful if it’s created with sincerity.
You’re a fabulous writer! Learning more about your perspective always prompts me to reconsider my own. I wonder if the beauty you saw in Catholicism was more so the beauty in humanity’s devotion. If that’s the case then in a way you’ve been a humanist all along! 💖
Beautiful piece, Elle! Thank you!
Beautiful piece. It is great to get your insights into what is driving the latest novel and its juxtaposition with the debut
Fascinating, as I’ve never thought of Catholicism as beautiful. It always felt dogmatic, harmful, and “old white man” ish to me.
Love your photos.
“Human” is my word of 2023.
Thank you for sharing an overview of the deep and intimate processes you have gone through. Self-revelation is difficult to write about, let alone expose to the world. It is clear from your post that you have lived (are living) an examined life. How rare that is today. Excellent!
As you admit, humanism is a difficult construct to pin down. Therefore, your literary choice to employ a lower case ‘h’ is brilliant. I do this as a libertarian, but alas, friends and family alike, miss the point.
It is easy to respect someone like you, who is entirely thoughtful and sincere. Someday, I would enjoy sharing thoughts of love, hope and other spiritual delights with those who I esteem. You have made it to that eclectic list of persons. Until then, keep up the good work.
Thank you for sharing your faith and creative journeys!
I’ve been on a similar path, looking for something hopeful to believe in. Humanism is pretty close to where I’m heading, but I’ve got some cynicism and old faith structures still “burning down” inside.
I’m looking forward to a brighter day and I know the things I used to believe in will provide good ground for something better.
All that to say, what you wrote is very beautiful and guiding. Thanks for being vulnerable!