Me? Oh, well, I don’t have a faith. And, no, I’m not interested in getting one either.

That was my  polite non-answer when asked about my religious beliefs by two Christians who stopped by Aditya’s and my doorstop to proselytize last weekend. And it was as true, as far as it goes – I’m not one much for simple faith in any context. When discussing my religious beliefs with friends & family, I’m most likely to to describe myself simply as an atheist. But when I’m feeling a little mischievous – or argumentative – I’ll sometimes put in that I’m an atheist – and a Hindu.

Yeah, it’s a bit of a complicated situation; I blame Aditya for it completely.  Like many other things in my life, religion is something that has become more complicated since we set off on our intercultural marriage adventure.

My religious past

Growing up, I’d describe my family as nominal Christians, like so many other Americans. We’d occasionally go to church, we’d celebrate Christmas and Easter with both secular and religious iconography & stories, and one summer I went to a day Bible camp at the urging of my (more religious) grandparents.

I never really “got” religion. When I went to church while my grandparents were visiting it was because after Sunday School they served doughnuts! And juice! At five I was junk-food deprived. I did try to understand & believe in what I heard in church and from family members – I distinctly remember trying to fit the Christian story of creation together with my understanding of evolution when I was six:

Maybe the kids of Adam and Eve interbred with the evolved humans, and people who are particularly stupid or do bad things like murder and steal are that way because they have more monkey genes!

Moral theory, eugenics and faith-based science in one sentence from a six year old! (There are family members who are surprised that I’ve managed to grow up into a reasonably sane adult.) To compound things further, when I was ten I stumbled onto both Dostoevsky and philosophy, and, well, early exposure to that sort of thing is bound to screw a kid up. In my case, Ivan Karamazov’s presentation of the problem of the evil rocked my world view, and ultimately led me to disbelieve in an omnipotent, omniscient, and benevolent god:

Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last, but that it was essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature- that baby beating its breast with its fist, for instance- and to found that edifice on its unavenged tears, would you consent to be the architect on those conditions?

Since then I’ve read significantly on religion, ethics, and the philosophy of religion, but nothing I’ve read has given me  such a strong punch to the gut – and nothing has changed my mind on the nonexistence of the Abrahamic God. That, along with strong leanings towards secular Humanism and a scientific mindset were all of my “religious” beliefs when I met Aditya.

Hinduism & Aditya

Aditya is very up front about his religious beliefs. While I wouldn’t call my husband a “spiritual person”, many of his actions and thoughts seem to flow from his religious background and beliefs – like many Hindus I know.

He’ll be writing his own post on the topic of religion and our relationship, so I won’t attempt to explain his religious beliefs myself – suffice it to say, he calls himself an atheistic Hindu – although pantheistic Hindu might be more accurate.  Prior to meeting him, I had very little knowledge of Hinduism, besides the fact that it talked about reincarnation. I did know it had something to do with reincarnation, and lots of gods. Speaking of, here’s a Fun Reincarnation Anecdote: as a barbaric, bloodthirsty child I used to go out after it rained to get rid of the snails in our garden. My mom initially objected to my use of a salt shaker as the weapon of choice, but desisted when I appealed to her vague hippie leanings that the snails were probably just people who had been very bad in past lives, and were getting what was coming to ‘em. That Russian literature, it screws a person up, I’m telling you.

Anyways, when Aditya and I first became a serious couple one of my first actions was to audit a Hinduism course, as described in this post – although I admit part of my motivation  was to end the association I had between Hinduism and evil snails. Each new aspect of Hinduism that I discovered through the class led to hours of discussion with Aditya as I learned about the specific practices he and his family followed (none of it included snails).

After these discussions I never worried that religion would be a source of friction in our relationship because our belief sets, while somewhat different, are mutually respectable and give us similar Weltanschauungs (worldviews). I think both of these – respect of the other’s beliefs, and similar mindsets, if not similar beliefs – are key to a successful relationship. I know that I could never have a serious romantic relationship with a Christian or moral relativist simply because those beliefs are antithetic to mine – and given my fascination with philosophy of religion and metaethics we’d never quit arguing about it. And as Aditya will attest, I am a classically-trained s.o.b. in a philosophical argument.

It also helped that I find many of the religious texts of Hinduism – particularly the Gita and the Upanishads – incredibly meaningful as philosophy, albeit not presented in the analytical framework I’m most familiar with. And while I don’t hold with the superstitions of any religion, including Hinduism, I certainly don’t think that the rituals and traditions of Hinduism are bunk, as I discussed in this blog post on intercultural acceptance. Rather, for me, ritual and tradition are the containers within which substance is stored – they create meaning in the same way as performative speech.

Becoming a Hindu?

While I incorporated some Hindu beliefs and rituals in my daily life and thoughts since studying the religion  in college, I have only been somewhat comfortable calling myself a Hindu since having an Arya Samaj wedding a year & a half ago. Until that point I would have said that I agree with some Hindu philosophy (I use “some” as a modifier since the heterogeneity of Hinduism means that no one can coherently accept all parts of Hindu philosophy). So why the change?

Well, as a wife of a Hindu man, a daughter in a Hindu family, and a eventual mother of Hindu kids, I am now not just a believer in some Hindu thought , but also a participant in Hindu culture and family life. And for me, personally, that makes the difference between being a Hindu and believing in some parts of Hinduism. It’s an odd distinction to many Westerners, I think, who are use to the straightforward conversion processes in Abrahamic religions, which have relatively clearer doctrines of faith than most religions developed in Asia, which can often be atheistic in nature.

Hinduism’s mark can be seen in our household – if you look closely – but day-to-day life isn’t much different than what you would expect in your typical nonreligious Western home.  There’s a shelf of religious texts above my shelf of ethics & philosophy books. One flat surface in the house plays host to a Nataraja, a Buddha, incense, and a growing collection of Ganishas – but also has Indian knicknacks and the occasional tea mug. Setting up a better puja area is on the long to-do list…

But, really, that’s about it. We don’t go to Hindu temple regularly, despite the fact that there’s two temples within ten miles (I wasn’t joking when I wrote that we now live in the Desi suburbs of DC). We don’t follow many common rituals – and there’s certainly no daily household pujas happening here! Right or wrong, I do sometimes feel that this lack of outwardly trappings of Hinduism makes my claim on Hinduism less “real”, at least to others. This is a relatively recent phenomenon – when I was simply a humanist atheist I never questioned whether my identity in that group was real or not. I suspect part of the issue is simply the way Aditya and I are settling into life and looking for a community; I’ve even been considering hitting up the local Unitarian Universalists to see if we’d fit in there, with our atheistic notions and statues of gods. The two, after all, are an odd combination to most people.

In the end though, I feel extremely comfortable with my philosophical and religious beliefs. Hinduism was an unexpected addition to my philosophy, but I have no doubt that I’m much richer for it  (Aditya was unexpected too – so help me, as a preteen I had a grand plan of studying math at CalTech, getting an MBA in Switzerland, and marrying an Austrian). And while it’d be pure hubris to say I’ve got this whole religion thing figured out by my mid-twenties, I do think I’ve developed a good structure on which to grow my understanding in the future. And, hey, I’ve always got my Russian literature to fall back on.

(Not Leo Tolstoy though – he’s a religious fruitcake.)

I tripped, stepping on a few books strewn along the “path” to the couch.

“Hey!” Aditya exclaimed. “Don’t step on the books! You’re never  step on books. It’s disrespectful.”

“Well, if you don’t want them stepped on you shouldn’t leave them on the ground. They’re just books – it’s not like I cracked the spine or anything. Wait… did you just mumble a prayer to the book?”

Cultural and religious differences

When I first started dating Aditya, I knew only a little about either Hinduism or general Indian culture. I certainly didn’t know about any prohibitions about stepping on books – at most, I had a vague notion that feet were considered unclean beyond just, you know, germs and dirt from walking around barefoot.

Learning about my husband’s culture and religious traditions has been a slow, albeit rewarding, experience. I’ve struggled with many of the concepts he considered completely normal – so normal, in fact, that the differences between our two expectations about proper behavior would only surface when one of us committed a faux pas in the other’s eyes.  This struggle goes beyond just memorizing what’s cool and what’s not – at times it has been difficult to understand the reasoning behind the rules, or to take the next step and accept the differences. Some of his cultural concepts I’ve been able to embrace as my own – but others not so much.

Today I’d like to discuss three good ways of dealing with differing cultural and religious traditions – understanding them, accepting them, or embracing them – and why it’s perfectly okay to not embrace – or even accept – any tradition you find difficult or troubling, as long as that works for your particular relationship.

Understanding differences – strive for it

“Everyone is necessarily the hero of his own life story”. – John Barth

There are very few people in this world who believe that their actions are without reason or justification. Certainly no culture or religion develops a custom just for the hell of it – there’s always a purpose. When you come across a cultural or religious difference, your first goal should always be to understand the reasoning behind,  the purpose to it.

Understanding the differing custom or behavior or attitude is not the same thing as accepting it as the right thing for you to do, or even the morally correct thing for anyone. I can understand the purpose behind a suicide bomber’s efforts to kill innocents, or the reasoning that leads to the barbaric custom of female infanticide without condoning either evil practice. Understanding a cultural difference isn’t the same as okaying it – it’s just a way to open up a dialogue with a person from a different background by acknowledging the humanness of their  actions and beliefs. If you can’t get beyond a “that’s nonsensical” reaction to a cultural difference that represents a failure on your part to stretch your mind fully. Of course, that doesn’t mean that it’s easy to understand the actions and traditions of cultures foreign to us. Stretching your mind is hard work!

I was completely baffled by Aditya’s reaction to my accidental stumble over his books. After all, they were just books – things, objects, items. Even after he explained that it was a matter of respect – respect over the knowledge the books contained, the wisdom we gain from the written word – I still didn’t find the whole scenario logical. Sure, respect learning, I got that – but why did he offer what looked like a prayer to an inanimate object? It wasn’t like the book cared it was stepped on! It was only after I  was told by Aditya that it was a pranam (respectful salutation), not a prayer that I realized – duh – it was a salutation to what the book symbolized, not the physical object itself. All right, I thought, I get it. By stepping on the book, you disrespected learning, and then you offer a pranam, and show that you actually do respect learning. Sounded a bit superstitious to me, but I understood the basic reasoning behind Aditya’s actions. And because I understood the basics it was something that I could tolerate, even if I didn’t think it worthwhile or logical.

Accepting differences – try for it

Accepting a cultural or religious difference goes beyond understanding the reasoning at play. Acceptance  means that you recognize that this cultural or religious difference is worthwhile and good  for the people who practice it.

Not all traditions are worthy of acceptance, of course – I’m not suggesting that you accept traditions that are obviously morally wrong, like honor killings, just because some culture  says that it’s a good thing. Even with more mundane cultural differences, though, it’s not always a simple jump from understanding the reasoning behind a cultural custom to accepting the cultural custom as a good thing for others. You could think it’s just a waste of time (my feelings on  most superstitions). Or that it’s a tradition that doesn’t solve the problem that is actually at hand – it just distracts from it (my feelings on most faith-based healing shticks you see on late-night tv).

While I believe that we should all strive to understand the cultural differences we come across in our intercultural relationships, I don’t think it’s necessary – or even possible – to accept all cultural differences. What’s important is that the level of acceptance of each others’ differences works for your relationship. This means that you’re both comfortable with each other’s differences, and neither person feels pressured to accept that which that which they find troubling, morally or otherwise.

Over time I did move from simply understanding Aditya’s tradition of not stepping on books to accepting it as a worthwhile endeavor.  As he explained the tradition more – and as I learned more about Hinduism in a class I was taking – I learned what Aditya got out of the pranams to “offended” books. For him, at least, the short practice wasn’t about superstition or righting some cosmic tally against him. Instead, it was a occasional reminder of why learning was valuable. A moment to pause and reflect.

I don’t think this particular tradition of his was one that I had to understand and accept in order for our relationship to succeed. Perhaps he wouldn’t have appreciated the eye-rolling I inevitably do when I think someone is being silly, but our relationship would survive. It’s a bit hypothetical, though, as I have come to accept this tradition. However, other cultural differences were deal-breakers. For example, it’s very important to Aditya that his parents be able and welcome to visit us for months at a time, or even move in with us, as is common in his culture.If I could not have accepted this value of his, than I doubt we’d be together today – it’s just too important to him. He communicated this to me very early in our relationship, and I learned to accept this foreign tradition.

How does one go about accepting alien customs, traditions, and beliefs as worthwhile and good – and a part of your life now? Well, for me, it’s taken mostly time and thought.  I’ve had to radically retool my understanding of what a good child-parent relationship is to get to the point of being comfortable with the idea & reality of long visits from Maa and Baba.  With the book thing, well, I’ve thought a fair bit on what it means to respect an abstract concept, and how one shows those sorts of values in everyday life.  (Yes, I was raised a heathen child without religion or much spirituality.) I’ve come to realize the value of these small, symbolic gestures of Aditya’s, how it allows for a redirection of one’s mind to the more important things of life, a little reminder of what matters. In fact, not only do I accept the idea of pranam to knowledge in Aditya’s life, I’ve come to desire it in my own. Which brings us to the final section…

Embracing differences, ending differences

The third and final way you can deal with cultural and religious differences is not just understand, not just accept, but embrace the differences and make them part of your own personal culture or religion. I think you see this most often when one half an interfaith partnership converts to his significant other’s religion – thus ending the interfaithiness. In some ways I’ve done that by embracing parts of Aditya’s Hindu practices and faith – I too now avoid stepping on books out of a respect for the knowledge they contain.

However, embracing all – or even most – of your partner’s cultural or religious beliefs should not be your main goal in dealing with differences. I mean, if you both completely embrace the other’s traditions, you just end up flipping sides! Nor should one person try to give up their culture entirely and embrace the other’s – you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of pulling it off, and if you somehow did, I suspect you’d find you’d lost a large part of the core part of yourself in the process.

No, I firmly believe that you should embrace the parts of another culture that strongly call out to you, and just try to understand and accept the other cultural differences. Think of whole-heartedly embracing some of your partner’s traditions as a bonus, but not a goal. Be open-minded enough to understand the purposes of different customs, and try to see and accept the good in these cultural and religious differences. But remember: it’s okay to not love, or even like, all parts of your partner’s culture. After all, it’s the differences between the two of you, in part, that brought you together.