The Spiritual Olympics

Human beings have the incredible ability to turn everything into a competitive sport. This fact is especially true in religious/spiritual circles. In Christian spaces, it manifests itself the most during Lent. When I was a Christian, I would always find myself in conversations talking about what I had given up for Lent. One year, someone told me that they had given up sweets. That seemed too easy, so I gave up everything with sugar in it. If you live here in the US, you know that there isn’t a single thing on our supermarket shelves that doesn’t have some form of sugar. This self-imposed abstinence didn’t last long. I lost the competition and wouldn’t make it to the Piety Olympics. In Jewish circles, we see it in those who try to outdo others in how scrupulous they keep the law. In Buddhist circles, we see how people drop how long they meditate daily in spiritual conversations. Oh, you do an hour? That’s nice. I do six in the morning and six at night. I don’t even get up to relieve myself. I just make a mess in my pants on the turnpike to enlightenment. The disgusting smell that emanates from my body lets you know that I am nearing enlightenment.

The competitive aspect of religion also manifests in conversations surrounding belief. For some reason, many people need to quantify how true a believer they are. This is especially true in traditionalist circles where simple orthodox belief isn’t enough. They need to show how they take that orthodoxy to the next level. Oddly, this often involves veering outside of some aspect of orthodoxy. In the case of the traditionalist Catholics, they will brag about how they respect the pope's authority and all that he teaches. When you bring up any post-Vatican II pope and ask if they affirm what those popes taught, they will get apoplectic. They will scream, “Those aren’t real popes,” and then offer “evidence” to back their heretical conclusions.

To stifle this competitive tendency, we can avoid engaging further with those who want to brag about their spiritual accomplishments. Let them be, and nod your head. Don’t talk about what you’re doing. Don’t give them ammunition to keep going in that direction. The other thing we can do is avoid trying to measure our spiritual practices. The only question we should ask ourselves about our spiritual practices is whether they help us connect to ourselves, others, and, most importantly, the divine. If they do, that’s great. Acknowledge that fact and put the rest out of your mind. If they don’t, try something else that may work better for your temperament. We don’t need to worry about what percentage of our prayers get answered or how long we can meditate. Put the ruler, scale, and ledger down. They aren’t going to help you in your spiritual life.