I don’t believe in one God, a Father Almighty, a maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible. Nor in one Lord Jesus Christ, who is reputed to be the only begotten Son of God, and born of the Father before all ages. A God of God, light of light, true God of true God.
I do, however, find myself thinking of Him often. He appears whenever I am tunneling deep under a philosophical theory, like a Balrog deep in the mines of Moria. Regardless of which philosopher has taken me there, He is mine to deal with. There is no choice for me. I must stand and face Him. Unlike the Balrog, however, His instincts are not to destroy, but rather, to be heard. I must consider the implication of Him in any philosophy, discover whether it is the light of Him at the core that has drawn me so deep, and allow that discovery to influence my next step on the path.
Is this practicing a religion or studying a philosophy?
The question implies a difference between philosophy and religion. I, for one, accept that difference, and understand it as the difference between asking a question and receiving an answer, as the difference between open and closed, as the difference between searching and settling.
The question also implies a difference between practicing and studying. I understand this difference as the difference between physical and mental activity; for instance, if I drove past a group of children who were running down the third-base line to dive headfirst into home plate, I wouldn’t say that they were studying their sliding technique, and if I saw them all sitting around reading about sliding strategies, I wouldn’t say that they were practicing it.
At bottom, the difference between both philosophy/religion and practicing/studying seem to be, for me, based on the metaphor of past and future, or rather, the experiential metaphor of looking back to see where one came from and looking forward to see where one is going, or even further, the process of moving in towards a core and adventuring out beyond the periphery.
Philosophy as the future, as looking forward, as adventuring beyond. While philosophers have always tried to seem like they know what’s what, Philosophy itself has never said it has the answer. It has always considered itself willing to rethink its assumptions, understanding from the very first that the wisest ones are those who know that they don’t know. And while it has all but demanded that the individuals who approach it make themselves familiar with its past, it has done so only to ensure that each step forward is all the more valuable.
Religion, even the eschatological ones, as the past, as looking back, as moving into the center. Religion symbolized as a circumpunct, with the focus of attention on the central point, itself a symbol of enlightenment, the details of which vary with each religion. Religion offers lessons from those enlightened ones who have come before. The goal of its practitioners is not to go beyond those who have come before, but to reach their level (if such a metaphor is allowed when one is speaking of enlightenment, nirvana, Heaven, etc.). It is to understand — to stand under — that central point.
Practicing as preparing oneself for the future, as imagining what’s ahead, as making oneself ready for the unknown. The children practice their sliding technique in order to be physically prepared for the big game. The student of Spanish practices rolling her tongue in order to not be embarrassed when she orders a daiquiri at the Mexican bar on her upcoming vacation. Practice takes place in the present and it depends on the successes of the past, but its focus, its energy, is concentrated on the future.
Studying as learning what is already known, as understanding what is already understood, as looking back into recorded history. While it too takes place in the present, and it too may prepare one for the future, its focus, its energy, is on the past. The language student studies what linguists have already discovered. The children study base-running strategies that were developed long before they were born.
Perhaps you have noticed that our original couplets — “practicing religion” and “studying philosophy” — include both aspects of each of the base metaphors (of which there are three: and the Father, Son, and Holy Balrog cracks his fiery, three-headed whip). I don’t think this is a mistake. I think this unity of opposites is what locates us in the present, neither past nor future, neither looking back nor looking forward, neither moving in nor venturing out, but rather, being here and now, breathing here and now.
One practices religion because even when one is moving into the circle, trying to find the core, the core is, for that person, not here or now, but rather there and in the future. One studies philosophy because though the answers may not be found, questions have been asked, and if one is to ask the right question in the future — if one is to become a philosopher — then one must venture back to discover what the wrong questions have been.
Practicing religion. Studying philosophy. The combination of opposites in a single concept.
Is this studying religion or practicing philosophy? Or can it, as the One, as one concept contained under the pronoun “it,” not be summed up by two, needing instead, a Trinity: yin and yang both comprising the whole and yet each serving as only a part of the total?


