Suffering: the source of religion?

Over the past few weeks, I've been thinking a lot of the idea of religion. By "religion", I don't mean the opposite of "relationship," or a set of legalistic rules. This is not a post about how Christianity isn't really a religion or anything like that. I don't even think that's fair to say, but that's a different thought (rant) for a different day.

No, I mean actual religions. Right before Christmas I took a class on world religions, and had to read several books on the topic. Over the weeks following the course, I had to write three different papers, interacting with the concept of religion in various ways. In addition, I visited a Buddhist community a few weeks ago as part of an assignment, and have carried on a bit of a conversation with one of the facilitators in the group. Being exposed to such a different tradition and interacting with the people who practice it causes one's view to be broadened considerably, and it made me think, "Why do we all have this concept of religion, anyway?" Primal societies with no contact with the outside world develop a system of religion all their own, and it typically bears strong resemblance to many other traditions. It seems as though we are all simply wired to find answers in the spiritual realm.

Surely there are both biblical and theological reasons this is so. Ecclesiastes says that God "has set eternity in the hearts of men" (Ecc. 3:11), and it seems logical that man, being created in God's image, would have an innate sense that he exists and would seek him out. But I wanted to look deeper than this. What drives us toward the divine? It's not that the standard answers are incorrect, but I wondered if they were perhaps incomplete.

As I sat in a cross legged position that would soon threaten to rupture every tendon and ligament in my legs, surrounded by dozens of meditating Buddhists, I pondered this. Towards the end of our session together, the facilitator opened up for a time of sharing. I listened to several people talk of their joy at finding a likeminded community to practice their faith (if that is the appropriate word ... it probably is not), but I also heard something else: suffering. It was subtle, but it was there. Some element of discord in their life had driven them to where they currently were, and they sought relief.

If you look through Buddhist literature, you will see much made of suffering, or dukkha, as they call it. To Buddhists, life is not merely filled with dukkha; life is dukkha. "To live is to suffer," the Buddha once said. The endless process of birth, death, and rebirth (known as samsara) is a cycle of suffering, keeping one from achieving enlightenment, and thus rest. All the pain that life brings is merely accepted as part of its nature. Buddhism offers its followers an escape to the paradisiacal realm of nirvana. Indeed, to speak to a Buddhist of the eternal life that Jesus offers is horrifying; they already have eternal life, they're trying to get out!

Buddhists are not alone in their fascination with suffering, though. Hinduism, closely related to Buddhism (much as Judaism is to Christianity), shares the same basic concepts. Many tribal religions have a concept of a Eden-like start to the world, only to deteriorate into the mess we now experience as a result of our distance from the spiritual realm. Humans in this world must appease the gods to ensure their supernatural assitance to overcome suffering in their lives. In order to prevent a drought, one may pray or sacrifice to a god of the sky; to avoid crop failure, one might make an offering to a godess of fertility. Jews and Muslims view suffering similar to Christianity, as a product of sin against God and others. The thread of suffering runs through every religion that I studied, and I am convinced it plays a major role in nearly every conception of the spiritual realm.

As I sat in that circle of Buddhists and heard their concerns, I found myself thankful. I would never deny or downplay the suffering experienced and found in our world, but I know that it rests in the hands of a sovereign God who is never surprised, never anxious, never outmatched. Rather than strive to get him on my side, I can be at peace, knowing that he already is on my side (Romans 8:31). Rather than discipline myself to escape from this life of suffering, I can rest in his grace, knowing that he will one day wipe away every tear and make all things new. Suffering is a powerful reminder of our distance from God, and a "megaphone to rouse a deaf world," as C.S. Lewis wrote. How comforting to know that that distance has been overcome by Jesus Christ, and no amount of suffering on this earth can separate us from his love.