Last year, before my fieldwork in graduate school demanded my time, I used to attend free meditation classes at Fo Guang Shan – a Buddhist temple — during the second and fourth week of Sunday. I am not really into religion, but I like the idea of meditating for self-awareness and inner peace.
Every after meditation, there’s a short sharing about Buddhist teachings led by a monk. I have less knowledge about Buddhism but I tried to digest everything and share few words. My frequent visit at the temple eventually made me appreciate the concept that Buddha is not a God, but a model for his human values. More than the faith-centeredness relative to Catholics, Buddhism teaches more of kindness for others and self-nourishment.
My faith was confused, and I needed some internal fixing to recollect everything which I found in the temple. It was my sanctuary for tranquility, perhaps my Oasis.
I was hooked in Buddhism until I started missing the classes due to my fieldwork in graduate school that consumed my weekends for one semester. Ever since my last visit, I have yet to return to the temple.
My hopes for strengthening my faith was fading once again.
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Yesterday, my friend posted via Instagram an invitation on a spiritual talk. It was very random when I shared that the talk was interesting. He then requested me to join the talk that left me caught off guard. I ended committing my attendance (gee!). I put forward the premise to him that my faith is disoriented. He uttered that he respects my view.
When we arrived at Christ the King in Ortigas, we started with a worship. Followed by a breakout session. During the breakout session, a priest preached about the story of Zaccheus also known as the tax collector, and how Jesus renewed him.
After the preach, there were series of questions in a single sheet that was handed to us. It was summarizing our reflection on the story of Zaccheus and how it relates to our life. I was anxious answering the questions. It felt like reliving with my Christian Living subject back in high school more than sincerely reflecting.
The participants were asked to share their words thereafter. All throughout the sharing, I was mum and wishing nobody would point a finger on me to recite. Luckily, I was saved by the bell when I was tapped by the lady beside me.
When the priest waved goodbye, our cluster stayed feasting on the snacks that were served. Casually, the regular attendees checked our (new ones) thoughts on the session.
I shared that I respect everything that has been shared, but to be transparent I am not into religion. It was a challenge when they asked why. I protested that if there’s no religion, there would not be any war, there would not be any prejudice about gays and lesbians, and the list goes on. I also found it unfair that we were pre-labeled when we were born deprived with the freedom to make a choice without a bias from our orientation.
I was jubilant when they were nodding as if paying reverence to me, although I know that their faith would not be rattled by my heated words.
One participant expressed her response to my belief:
“I guess one thing is for sure, there is a higher being. There is God. Whether it’s Buddhism, Islam, or Christianity, if you think one of which will bring you closer to God or holiness, so be it. It’s about making a commitment with God or that higher being, and flourishing it.”
Her response struck me. It was true that above all us, there is a higher being.
Honestly, up until now I am still savoring her response. It was a snooze that keeps on waking my faith. Maybe one of these days, I will have a special encounter with that higher being, and I hope when that day arrives, I will come prepared.
Jef Queyquep 