Maybe religion is stronger here because in some ways, Brasil is not as modern as Europe. Maybe it's merely more visible. I think we were once the same way with religion taking up a larger part of our lives, being more important. I know from what I read, that in many parts of Europe the hold the church has on the people is considerably weakened. Conversely, I read this week that 8 put of 10 people believe in the/an after life. I thought those were pretty amazing figures. Heartening in a way, perhaps a bit of a stick and a carrot for becoming the best person you possibly can. It's human nature to strive for reward rather than punishment. From what I have had to do with religion here, it seems most believe that a person carries on after death in some way.
The River Thames, London
The bareness and wide open spaces of Norfolk and the River Ouse.
A man with an Indian headress of Brasil
I am not a religious person, but I like to think I am a Sprititual person. I was christened Church Of England, the religion that old Henry the Eighth created. Dating from the time he broke away from the Catholic Church of Rome in the 1600's. But with me coming from a small village in Norfolk, England, the church was quite a serious affair. With strict rules about everything from birth to death. Of course the church was long used as a means of controlling the common man. Along with the feudal system of land ownership and surfs to work for the Lords. People were not educated, they needed the priests to read the bible to them, to tell them the way they were supposed to live. The powerful families did the rest, because everything was to do with power. The ignorance of the people suited the church for many eons. Education not only gives people the freedom to read for themselves but the means to think for themselves as well. Some of that attitude remained for a long time.
Quite unusually, our village was a long street rather than a compact square or circle. The one church was all we had, not anywhere near the centre, or perhaps the centre moved over the years. As the church was positioned quite close to the one school, so it could have happened. Both were located quite a way out at the end of a 'strung out' village of the one main road about five or six miles long, not that easy to reach from one end to the other! Although people did walk more then, it was necessary too. Even we children walked nearly two miles each way to school every day. That was before the days when children were ferried everywhere. Here in Brasil, the clock is reversed on that too, people walk more, or bycycle.
Perhaps it was the fact that I was exposed to two quite different cultures, via my country Mother and my town Father, that made me different. I can see how it would have made me question the 'status quo'. In the village, I was considered neither chalk nor cheese, fish nor fowl, that was me. Or, if you look at it differently, doubly blessed, with a foot in two camps, both quite different. We travelled regularly between Norfolk and London, at a time when people seldom moved many miles from home. It did mean I was truly neither, certainly many in the village spoke of my Father with suspicion. 'What? that Londoner, that soldier.' Despite the fact that he lived there, with a local girl and their children, for nearly twenty years, counted for little. Suspicion and small mindedness of parochial people was rife towards everyone, especially us. We were unique in the village. Even though I did not understand it at the time, we were ostracised to some extent. My mother marrying a Londoner was viewed askance, as were those girls who became involved with Americans....the common opinion was it was wrong, or bad.
But even so, I noticed the difference between the two families, the two communities, town and country. I was ever the child who said little and saw too much...sometimes looking back, I think I knew nothing on either count. The village, had the one church, a high church. Almost Catholic in its practices, with incense, communion, choirs and all. It was where the better off of the community worshipped. At that time religion was trying to maintain its grip on a people who had gone through two World Wars, begun to see other lives and countries, going into a period of great change. Transport and tv were, as always the great educators. This country church was backed up by both Bethesda and Methodist chapels, although it was strict competition between them. It was known in the village, that the organisers or congregation did not mix, one with the other. Did not support each other verbally, or financially. In fact, I thought them 'daggers drawn' in their attitude towards each other. It was cold distain for the misguided who worshipped n other ways. I puzzled over it then, but now I see no reason to distain anyone's choice of worship. If you ignore the dogma that has built around them over the years, the message of love and care is central to all. Isn't it?
Both chapels were closer to the centre of the village, so it was where we children were expected to go on a Sunday morning, children's service. Get em young, must be the motto. We had the usual, harvest Festivals, anniversaries, when we were expected to recite something religious, dressed in our Sunday best. In a small village everything you did was under a microscope. The old ladies who knew the entire history of you, your family, including any scandals past or present. They kept a wary eye on we girls, judging our progress through our maturity, or past it. All I wanted to do was escape. The village policemen, stood prominently, keeping a wary eye in any places the boys congregated. Ready to slap a head or two if any got out of line. In those days, there was still respect for adults. It was a simpler way to organise village life. I remember rejecting a lot of the rules before I was sixteen. Already feeling there were other truths, other ways. Of course, I was already a sensitive...seeing and feeling things around me others did not seem to see. It was not acceptable to say so of course. Perhaps that's why brasil speaks to me, they accept so much of what my own culture denied.
So, here I am in Brasil, many years later. With many things about the set up of the community, striking a chord with me, from that time, that era past. The only difference is the moral climate here, certain girls and their lifestyles are tolerated, integrated, absorbed naturally. In ways they never were in England, or anywhere in the U.K. Extra children are welcomed into families with little fuss. There often being a central home where all the children of the family are welcome. The drug culture too, widespread here, as well as through other countries is barely below the surface, also widespread. Nevertheless, the church here is strong within the culture. Being primarily a Catholic country, it seems to have fragmented into many different sects, or cults as they call them here.
The difference is, from what I have seen, is that it's done with passion...and I like to see it. It's done with joy and affection....I like it even more. Perhaps too many years of me observing a Western religion. One where if you were spiritual in a more unconventional way, fear and suspicion arose. Going into Psychic fairs and gatherings there were always demonstrations against what some narrow minded religious people considered wicked behaviour. I knew most of the people involved well, they were primarily good, normal people except for how they believed. They were not bad, or evil, not trucking with the devil as the demonstrators believed. At least they were not burnt as they would have been a few hundred years before, Here, it's all done with such open mindedness. There are churches dedicated to healing, churches to all kinds of worship, in all kinds of ways. Having been to a few such services, even a gathering at someone's home, I can attest that all are carried out with real fervour, commitment. To be involved, to watch, is being privileged to see true believers experience real communion with their God.
It may be a little strong to an English girl like me, watching trembling hands shaking to the sky. Or, seeing eyes closed in order to commune more fervently, to watch healers whose whole attention is on the recipient, stamping feet, speaking strongly. Speaking with passion, with conviction, watching others, legs weakened by passionate belief, take refuge in kneeling. Seeing lips move in involuntary prayer, without being so directed, It's impossible not to be moved. To me, it doesn't mean I am converted to their way of worship. As I believe in a God, in good, in helping and supporting others. In being the best person. I can be. I am content with who I am and what I believe. The bible says, God says "in my house there are many mansions".I believe that means there is more than one way of eeachingrGod. It gives people the freedom to worship as they think best. In a way that's true to their beliefs, to their lifestyle and their culture. How wonderful, how beautiful, how pure. Freedom is a wonderful thing isn't it, true freedom is difficult to acheive.
As long as none call it wicked, call it wrong, call it evil. As long as people allow others to be true to what they believe and they hurt no one in the process. Then freedom of worship or belief has to be good. Then the World must thrive. How can the way you worship, or what you see as heaven be misguided or wrong. Just do not force your beliefs on others....or allow them to force theirs on you. I wander the World, where I can. I watch and take part in many other religious services, from all I take any part I feel is true. The rest is their particular opinion, or preference.
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