Tag: religion

A Sect of One

May 16th, 2026

“It can sometimes seem that each of us is a sect of one.” -from The Lies that Bind: Rethinking Identity by Kwame Anthony Appiah

Note: I will be quoting the Appiah frequently in this essay. Assume the quotes are from him unless I specify otherwise.

Kwame Appiah is a philosopher who writes about how we as humans identify ourselves and how others identify us. His book is not long, but he touches on a large number of topics. He has written individual chapters on certain types of identity. One chapter is just about religious identity. That is a subject that might easily require an entire book of its own, but Appiah manages to make a variety of intriguing observations using relatively few words. This particular chapter interests me because I have noticed some of same things he has in the course of my life.

One of the main points that Appiah makes is that a religion is not primarily a system of beliefs, although we have been convinced that is so. He maintains that religion rests on a tripod of foundations: belief, practice, and community. Each aspect of religion interacts and supports the others. This is not a new idea. The Buddhists talk about taking refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha, and to me that sounds like the same thing. Right belief (orthodoxy) has to be accompanied by right practice (orthopraxy). Right practice can mean all sorts of things: what we eat or wear, what ritual we follow, what moral codes we use to guide us. Right practice is what we do, as opposed to what we believe. The actions of the community are what unifies us. My Buddhist friends would call that “together action”. Oddly enough (perhaps this my Catholicism speaking), this triune set of pillars reminds me of how the Holy Trinity works.

Appiah does not discount the importance of belief. Our beliefs guide our actions and influence who we consider to be members of our community. Almost every Sunday, I go to Mass with my wife and grandson. Everyone in the congregation stands during the liturgy to recite the Credo (Latin for “I believe”). The Nicene Credo is packed with theology, and we all proclaim that we believe everything in that profession of faith. Some of the articles of faith in the creed are honestly a bit of a reach. Was Mary really a virgin? Is Jesus “begotten” of the Father?

If somebody will ask me if I really believe everything in the creed, I would probably reply, “Yeah, sure, why not?” That is not a rousing endorsement, but it all I can muster up at this point. Appiah said that “an avowal of faith is a performance as much as it is a proposition”. In fact, he describes the reciting of the creed as “a pledge of allegiance”. It’s a sign on solidarity. The praying of the creed at Mass is “together action”. It has as much to do with orthopraxy and community as it does with orthodoxy.

Now, if a person does not believe everything that their religion proclaims, is that person not a member of that community? This goes back to identity; I know at least one person who does not believe in the god of the Torah but identifies as a Jew. He would be deeply offended if I told him he was not a Jew. His Jewish identity is grounded in his tradition, his family history, and his moral code. He doesn’t need the theology.

Likewise, I know Buddhists who are atheists. They have no need to believe in God (or gods). As John Lennon once sang, “God is a concept by which we measure our pain.” That’s an fascinating idea, but not a very catchy song lyric. The point is that Buddhists can engage in right practice without a theology. Especially in Zen, the belief system is minuscule. The goal (if there even is a goal) is to go back to the mind before thinking and just do it. And do it as a community (sangha).

Religious identity looks different from different vantage points. A person who views members of a religion from a distance often sees a monolithic group of people. As the observer gets closer to the group, they can see the differences among individuals. I found that out in a Bible study years ago. Most of the members of the group were Evangelicals. I came to the study with a stereotype in my head of what these people were like. I was correct in a few ways, but mostly I was mistaken. Each person in the group was unique, and each had a particular viewpoint on scripture. In effect, I discovered that “Evangelicals” is a nonsense term, just like “Catholics” really means very little.

I have always been interested in other faith traditions. So, I have spent time with Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Sikhs, practitioners of indigenous traditions, and a wide variety of Christians. It has often amazed me how I can have friendly discussions with people whose religions are quite different from mine, but I sometimes get into fierce arguments with coreligionists. It seems like the closer people are with regards to belief, the more eager they are to dispute even the tiniest variations of doctrine. It’s like family fights. The intensity of the quarrels increases as the parties share more in common. I suspect it is a conflict about identity. Who is the true believer and how do we decide who is in the group and who is banished?

I think of myself as a Catholic, who has managed to incorporate aspects of Judaism and Buddhism into his practice. (I blame “Nostra Aetate” for my adventures in religious studies). Well, that is my identity. I have no idea how others perceive me, and I really don’t care that much.

Hopefully, I won’t get ostracized at Mass.


Christmas Cards

December 21st, 2025

I send Christmas cards. Lots of them. I think that my wife and I have mailed over seventy cards this year. I have posted most of them. Almost every day I wrote notes in some cards, put stamps on their envelopes, and dropped them into mailboxes.

Why do that?

The main reason that I send out Christmas cards is because I like doing it. I suppose that is the main reason for me to do anything. In this case, I do it in order to maintain the tenuous relationships I have with far-flung friends and family. I write cards to people all over the world, and with some of them I haven’t seen their faces or heard their voices in decades. Yet I still feel a connection with them. Sometimes we get responses to our cards, but often we don’t. Writing a card is a lot like putting a message in a bottle and tossing it into the sea. The recipient might get it, and they might read it, and they just maybe might write back. Writing and sending physical messages is an anachronistic practice, one that is nearly lost in our age. However, it a means of communication that has soul. There is something almost magical about sending or getting a handwritten card.

It should be noted that I am choosy about what kind of card I send to an individual. Some folks are very focused on the religious aspect of Christmas, and to those persons I usually send a card with a Christian theme. However, I know Jews, Muslims, Buddhist, and atheists who don’t give a hoot about the birth of Christ, yet they celebrate during the season. They get other types of cards. My Jewish friends all got Hanukkah cards. We are celebrating different festivals, but they long for the same things: love, joy, and peace. I try to express similar hopes and wishes in the cards I send to other non-Christians. My family celebrates Christmas, but the message of the Incarnation is universal.

I know people who are insistent that Christmas be solely about Jesus. These are the ones who believe there is a secular war against Christmas. There may in fact be a war, but the real enemies of the holiday are consumerism and greed. Christmas has always been tied with paganism in some way, and that is not necessarily a bad thing. Years ago, we had a real tree in our house and burned real candles on it. That’s a very old German tradition that harks back to pre-Christian times. Christmas has a deep connection with ancient feasts that celebrated the winter solstice and the rebirth of the sun. The holiday is fundamentally about the return of light and warmth in a world that has become cold and dead. The symbolism is all around us this time of year. I have only to look out my window and see all the Christmas lights trying to bring a bit of joy to my part of the world.

When I send a card, I write a message in it tailored to the recipient. I seldom just scribble my name on a card and call it done. Do others actually care what I say? Maybe not. I think they realize that some effort has been put forth. I hope the recognize that I give a damn.

Peace on earth.