Religion and Belief

I’m not a believer, nor a member of any religion. I never have been. My wife, on the other hand, is Catholic and has a strong belief in god. For her, belief is a source of strength: a firm anchor that she can rely on to remain fast in the face of an ever-changing world.

My mother felt similarly; she wasn’t religious in the sense of attending church or praying regularly but she maintained her strong faith. I was always puzzled by people’s belief in the divine. I have never felt any sense that there was some ubiquitous presence. There’s just me and the universe around me.

My natural curiosity has led me to speculate about religion and belief since I was a child. A particularly cynical child who could not imagine any benefit from subscribing to the archaic, male-dominated, hierarchical view of the world promoted by the Christian churches. I had–and still have–a consistent world-view that works for me with no obvious gaps into which I feel compelled to fit a divine entity.

However, as I have matured I have come to recognize that their beliefs do provide comfort to some people. Something to hold on to: as long as they maintain their grip they cannot become lost. It provides a sense of security, a safe haven. A sense of familiarity and unchanging stability that feels like home.

That is a feeling I can identify with, although my personal comfort derives from being in a predictable environment with well-established routines. In some ways this mirrors the trappings of religion with days being measured by regular masses and prayers, the familiar Sunday attendance at a church service. Echolalia substitutes for the recitation of the Rosary; stims rather than the sign of the cross. Subconscious ritual.

Understanding leads to acceptance. I can understand why their faith is so important to some people, I can see how it gives them strength and support. I accept them as they are.

What I cannot accept is intolerance. Whether it stems from religious teachings or the influence of others in society does not make a difference: intolerance is the opposite of acceptance. It’s hate instead of love. It destroys instead of supporting and nurturing. If your faith truly gives you strength, then be strong enough to love and accept those who are different from you.

Listen

Imagine you couldn’t speak, couldn’t sign to communicate with other people. How could you let them know when you were feeling discomfort or pain? Whether you wanted to go some place, or simply be left alone where you are?

How would you feel when doctors decided you were not competent to make your own decisions about your life? When they took you away from the places and people you were used to? When they denied you access to the tools you use to communicate?

How would you like to be medicated against your will when your distress is interpreted as non-compliance and “bad behavior”? To be punished–hurt and abused–when you are simply acting in a way that is natural for you? To be incarcerated, institutionalized and denied your freedom because somebody believes that not speaking means not thinking?

This has happened to many, many people who are autistic or have other neurological conditions affecting their ability to communicate in conventional ways. It is still happening today. Places like the Judge Rotenberg Center in Massachusetts inflict pain and fear in an attempt to force compliant behavior; instead they cause long-term harm including PTSD.

Sharisa Kochmeister was denied the right of access to her communication devices, deemed not competent and made a ward of Jefferson County, Colorado. She has been removed from her home and family, and they have been prevented from contacting each other except for a very few highly-constrained supervised visits.

What will it take for all of us to live secure in the knowledge that we will not face such arbitrary denial of our rights? That we will not be detained against our will? That we will be presumed competent regardless of our means of communication?