namesakes, faith, and identity

Recently a collection of letters written by Mother Teresa were published. The letters revealed some of her struggles with faith. Some writers have expressed shock, others, comfort to know that she was human too. She’s always been a kind of hero of mine and now she has even more depth than the depth of her caring—she has more character. No person is one-dimensional, you cannot be only one thing. And because of that I think everyone struggles with faith. I liked what one writer had to say:

"I think there is no suffering greater than what is caused by the doubts of those who want to believe," wrote Flannery O'Connor, the Roman Catholic author whose stories traverse the landscape of 20th-century unbelief. "What people don't realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe."

It reminds me of the book turned movie "The Namesake." It follows the life of a boy whose parents immigrated from India. He grows up in a primarily American lifestyle, but is confused by his Indian heritage. For a time he wants to ignore it altogether, and then after a traumatic event, he embraces it completely. He marries an Indian girl and attempts to live the traditional life expected of him when. But this doesn't work either, he discovers her infidelity and they part, leaving him doubting his identity and his decisions. Again, his world is shattered. Here he had tried to do everything right, and now it all comes back in his face. He has to face the fact that he has to come up with his own identity—his own adaptation of what works—what lets him be himself without denying his heritage and with self-respect. How he can reconcile the values of his heritage while finding a path that allows him to be honest with himself, not trying to be something he's not.

I loved it because as an audience you want resolution, you want him to be one thing or the other, but real life is never like that. Real life is coming to a reconciliation of your upbringing and your own way of life. All or nothing is never a viable option, and if you try to force it, you end up devastated at one point or another.

I struggle with this all of the time as a Mormon. I don’t agree with the way my parents enforced religion growing up. I believe God doesn’t want to force us to be good but to make our own choices, to have the freedom to do so. I believe it’s more important to be loving and warm than to strictly adhere to a code of conduct; it’s more important to treat others well than to have perfect church attendance, or daily scripture study. I would say that religion has often been a "cross" for me rather than an electric blanket, but it means much more to me as a cross than a blanket--it forces me to identify why I choose it and why I follow it. There have been times where I tried adamantly to do everything by the book, but I felt less human, less alive, and my friendships seemed hollow. I was denying part of myself, part of my need to express and not filter. I now prize the questioning I've done and am doing to continue to do to meld my religion with what I personally value. The goal is to live in absolute integrity, to never have to wonder where to draw the line, because I've made the lines consistent with what I believe is right. And by being so honest with myself, I can be fulfilled in my life and my relationships.