"A person inclined to doubt all accepted opinions." - Oxford English Dictionary
Scepticism: a philosophy, I'm coming to discover, not quite so simple (or nonchalant!) as the dictionary definition implies.
Having been brought up in a family almost entirely without religion - with the exception of a few, fairly limited, religious education lessons - I knew relatively little about spirituality and even less about what it must be like to have a spiritual experience. While I was perfectly happy inside my bubble I didn't feel like I had anything to compare it to; just because my life experience told me my belief was right, was it really as unshakable as I thought it was? It felt a bit to me like claiming to have a water tight container that I'd never actually allowed anywhere near water. So, in late 2012 I metaphorically submerged myself in the deepest religious waters I could think of: Israel.
While my first few days there were more concerned with getting my bearings and enjoying the quaint thrill of alien surroundings, I soon travelled to Jerusalem to try and learn about the religions I knew so little of, directly from the people who followed them.
I feel at this point I should show my hand: I am an atheist and a sceptic. I do not, however, think this set of beliefs should lead me to immediately rebuff any beliefs or phenomena that do not fit into my existing understanding of the world. In essence, I believe in my system and if my system works it should withstand exposure to anything. If, as has happened, I investigate something that does upset my existing philosophy then, providing I have been thorough and objective in my study of the evidence, I must change my system accordingly. Being consistently open-minded and searching for truth can only, in my opinion, lead to bettering ones understanding of the world. We should demand to be proven one way or the other and not just sit comfortably in the assumption we're right just because the opposing side may appear weaker to us. One just has to be careful not to be so open-minded that our brain falls out (which is a silly way of saying not to readily believe everything that presents itself as fact - take the Stanford Institute researchers completely fooled by Uri Geller, for example).
I was fortunate enough to stay with a muslim family in Hebron, share a hostel room with a Christian woman and spend time with members of the progressive Jewish organisation: Netzer. As well as trying to learn about these people's personal experience of faith, I also spent time at sites of great religious importance to see if I would have any experiences of my own.
I first spent time with the members of Netzer and I was lucky to find them! They had travelled around Israel many times, were able to speak Hebrew and just generally saved my incompetent ass. I learnt a lot about the Old City from them - the divisions and the history. I was most excited, however, by an invitation to a Shabbat meal and service (please correct me if this is completely the wrong term). There were about 8 of us and we all sat together in their living room for an informal service before the meal. We read inspirational and thoughtful passages that were relevant to the the group and sang several songs. I wasn't expected to join in if I didn't want to but I decided to, both out of respect but also because of the genuine feeling of open friendliness. Afterwards followed more food than was humanly possibly to consume and I sorely wished I could have eaten more; it was lovely - as was the whole evening.
Having started my journey with a distinctly positive example of religion it was unfortunate that my next experience would be more melancholy. I had already been staying in my room with a few others when we were joined by new lady. She recounted how she had had to move to this room as she needed to extend her stay in Jerusalem. I was concerned to learn that this was because she had not yet received the sign from God she was waiting for and from what I could gather she had already been waiting in Jerusalem for somewhere in the region of twenty days. She was very sweet and very positive but I couldn't help worrying for her. If I were in her position I could imagine myself getting disillusioned, or worse: blaming myself. The sign she was waiting for related to a long term partner having recently decided not to pursue their relationship. She was vulnerable and needed a friend and the friend she had chosen (God) wasn't delivering; and if my personal belief about God is true - he was never going to deliver. I left Jerusalem just over a week later just as she was being kicked out of the Hostel for having reached their maximum stay length. I learned she was not going home but moving to another hostel. I left Jerusalem feeling confused. I had seen religion draw people together in a wonderful way but I had also seen it seriously isolate someone.
My trip culminated with a few days in Hebron. I was lucky enough to stay with a local family and do a bit of work in one of the traditional ceramic factories, which was wonderful. Again, I saw their religion bringing them together; the admirable devotion to family and the inclusion of people less fortunate than themselves was, frankly, intoxicating. That coupled with the hauntingly beautiful call to prayer every morning made me consider the fact that, had I been raised here, there was absolutely no way I wouldn't believe in Islam despite all the conflict and animosity. From this, I began to realise that the critical thinking which feels so natural to me, is something I had to be taught and exercise. I hypothesised about a sort of blue pill/red pill situation wherein I could have all the family and community fulfilment I wanted at the cost of my atheism and would I do it. I can't say that I would; but in a different situation - perhaps.
Throughout all of this I had been visiting and learning about some of the most sacred places for Jews, Muslims and Christians. Many of them were very beautiful. Many of them were very sad. But I'm afraid to say none of them evoked anything other than ordinary interest. The most moving experience I had during my whole trip was galloping on horseback across a mountain top overlooking the ancient city of Petra. The overwhelming sense of freedom and adrenaline I felt was absolutely indescribable. For a moment there was nothing else in the world except the wind and the horse. Staggering.
Finally, I felt some connection with the people I had been seeing this past month: crying, praying, rejoicing. Was this what they were feeling? If so, I can certainly see why they devote themselves to it. I didn't feel alone in the world at that moment and it was wonderful; but as far as I'm concerned that's just part of the human experience. It seemed to me that the euphoria so many were attributing to their God, was in fact being created by the people themselves with their rich culture, social life and communities. I only saw a darker side to the religious experience when I met people who were isolated and lonely.
I left with new knowledge and a new respect for those who are religious. Did I believe in their God? No. Did I believe in them? Yes; I believe that it was they that were creating the joy and wonder they experienced from their religion. I believe that against incomprehensible odds some bald apes came into existence and made the most extraordinary and unlikely things. There was no plan. No intervention.
It was just us, and that is the most beautiful thing of all.
