Religion and College: Try Experiencing God

"Stop sneering at me. Stop asking me questions that you think you already know the answer to. Why have you already made judgments before considering things from a different angle?" I love this sentiment, this mindset. Why do I love it? Because I have heard those same questions from "believers," "non-believers," and "in-betweeners" alike.  I'm convinced that, for the most part, people want to live freely and without being judged. Far too often, though, we get to thinking that we know what is right; we get comfortable and, ultimately, we get afraid.

So we have to ask ourselves, what are we afraid of? What is it about spirituality or religion that scares us into denying that they are a part of the human experience? My answer, a year and a half ago, was that "religion" was dangerous, because it gave people the idea that they were right and others were wrong, and because it had led to "bad" things in the past. How did I know? I had studied it. I had talked to people. I had learned about the past sins of religions through history classes.

One thing I didn't grasp was that if you want to like something, you are going to look for things that you like about it. If you want to hate it, you'll look for things you dislike.
At some point along my line of thinking, I must have realized that I was not giving "religion" a fair shot, so I started being more open to exploring that which I had been afraid to go into.  I changed my defensive mindset. I owe this to friends that, despite knowing a lot about me and about the shameful things I have done, still loved me. A lot of those friends lived faith-led lives. They were members of InterVarsity (Christian Fellowship), of Christian Impact or of local area churches.

So I started talking about religious concepts, trying to understand people. As I asked people about their passions, about their coping mechanisms for suffering, about what makes them happy, I found myself running into this question:  "Do you believe in God?" My confirmation day was haunting me.

I had been on a roll the past two years—still comfortably agnostic, openly discussing religion, even cracking open a Bible once in a while. I was reading CS Lewis, Thank God for Evolution by Rev. Michael Dowd, Mitch Albom books, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, and many more books, all of which attempted to get at the "meaning" of life, books that challenged me to dig deeper.

I never left UNH to do all of this.

Another theory that I have stumbled upon: you cannot come to know "God" without having put yourself in the position to experience Him. You will never get to know what faith can do for you by sitting in a library reading a book, by watching a movie, by reading the news, or even by conversing with friends. These environments are far too comfortable for us. It is from these comforts that we can make an intellectual (often subconscious) decision and then look for the things we like or dislike in a faith or religion.

Then my friends asked me to go with them on this spring break trip—Katrina Relief Urban Plunge (or KRUP)—down to New Orleans. It was an alternative trip organized and run by InterVarsity. The deal was, they said, I could go for cheap (friends of IV members get a discount), and I would be helping to rebuild New Orleans for a whole week. Not only that, but we would be digging deeper into the work we were doing, processing the suffering and hope that we saw, the injustice right here on American soil, as well.

An internal UFC match ensued. Part of me screamed out that I should be relaxing during my spring break. I had worked so hard for so long, I deserved the break. Or maybe I should head to the beaches, do an extravagant trip with friends, party it up. Or what about the high school friends I hadn't been able to keep in touch with?

Another part of me—the part that ended up winning—jumped at the opportunity to do something I had always wanted to do: Habitat for Humanity. Helping out people for free who needed it more than I did.

Here is why this part ended up winning: through my discussions with people, through my readings, through my growing understanding of what a true Christian was supposed to look like, at least one pertinent fact stood out.  No matter how you interpret the Bible, whoever this Jesus guy was, He certainly cried out for us to help those in need rather than selfishly help ourselves (Use Google, search for "What does the Bible say about helping those in need?").

All of my other thoughts about how to spend spring break were selfishly motivated. I wanted to at least understand what it was supposed to be like to live a "good" life.  I wanted to see if God truly was to be found in the broken places, as I had often heard. But I could not do that from my dorm room. I could not do that from my house. I could not do that in reading the news or a book.

I had to get out. I had to experience it for myself.

You cannot ever hope to "find God" through intellectual processes. It will not work. I am not saying that you shouldn't try to understand your experiences, or to make sense of the world. Humans have the capacity to reason; we should use it. But we reason with our experiences, and if we never put ourselves into the position where others feel "God" moving, how could we ever deny their belief?

Things suck in this world. Plain and simple. Come and see how people deal with that. Come to New Orleans. Try doing things for others. Then keep asking questions, and keep digging out those fears. Seek, and you will find something worthwhile.

Sean Matthews is a senior philosophy major who found religion to be a helpful part of his life in college. In this column, he explores the idea of how religion can fit into a college student's life, and he shares his story in hopes that you'll find a connection with your own experience.