Religion Is Meant To Be Disturbing

I think we sometimes have this idea that religion’s sole purpose is to comfort us. In The Invention of Lying, Ricky Gervais certainly does believe this to be the case. Religion is expected to be spiritual comfort food, the way to get our spiritual jollies and if it doesn’t do this, then we think it has failed.

I had a fascinating conversation yesterday with a friend who is an initiate of another faith tradition: the LDS church. Knowing I had just undergone the ordeal of initiation into a lineage of traditional Witchcraft, they wanted to compare the experience. Without revealing any of the details of the ceremonies we were part of, we still had a lot to discuss. What struck us both was that there was no way to really prepare for the experience itself and that the experience was quite disturbing for both of us.

Disturbing isn’t a bad thing. Moses was deeply disturbed when God spoke to him from a burning bush. Psyche was very disturbed when she was rescued from certain death by a love she could not see. Orpheus was disturbed when confronting Hades. Inanna was disturbed when she descended to confront Ereshkigal. The initiates of Eleusis were profoundly disturbed and forever altered.

Disturbance is good. Shakes off all the dust. Reveals the rotten and failing supports so you can replace them with something sturdier. You have to begin by disturbing the ground if you want sweet corn to grow. The sun must disturb the night in order for there to be a dawn.

I like to think disturbance is a good sign. It means air and light are shining on hidden places, and there’s a possibility for growth. I pounce on things that disturb me and I worry them like a dog with a bone. Since I jumped all over the Watchtowers in a previous post I’ve continued to gnaw on the subject, and although they still don’t rest easy on me, I’m finding the dust is starting to settle. My understanding is changing, growing deeper, but that couldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been disturbed first.

I’m glad my initiation disturbed me. As the dust is settling, pieces are falling into place in a way I never would have considered. Once the disturbance is past, I feel comforted. Not by happy platitudes, but by the certainty that I better understand my own soul.

If your religion doesn’t disturb you, is it just about maintaining a comfortable status quo? Is that what you want? Or do you find value in being disturbed, shaken, stirred and in awe of this awesome experience of living here on this fragile blue ball floating in space?