Simplifying Religion: Removing Barriers That Keep Us From God, Family, and Others

By Ed Galisewski

Will Religion Survive? Should It?

It's no secret that younger generations are leaving organized religion in large numbers. Their exodus speaks loud and clear to the fact that there is a
generational divide today that spans all faith groups.

Not many people have wanted to tackle this issue because of its difficult, often touchy subject matter, but that didn't stop author Ed Galisewski from jumping in with both feet. He reached out to those walking away and bluntly asked them why. And, thankfully, they bluntly answered him. Simplifying Religion covers six of the most divisive issues uncovered by these conversations that drive the conflict between Boomers and Millennials and fuel the exodus from religion.

Simplifying Religion is for all generations, from Boomers to Gen Zs. Ed hopes to bring the generations back together by finding common ground through honest dialogue and good will. Please be a part of the solution: Read this book, talk about it, and pass it on to those in your religious circle, especially those who are struggling to stay engaged in their current spiritual community, or those who are finding themselves increasingly alienated from a family member.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Total Publishing
• Release date: May 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781633021891

Ed Galisewski

ED GALISEWSKI is a real life Joe Palooka-a big, good-natured guy. A men's ministry leader for twenty years, Ed has ministered to literally thousands of people. He's been in and out (and in again) of church, learning to overcome his own struggles with the institution while still loving the body of Christ. Ed and his wife Lynette have two children, son Braun and daughter Bryn, and live in Littleton, Colorado.

Book preview

Introduction

Growing in faith is a journey, a process. We don’t wake up one day with all the answers; in fact, we cannot even learn all the answers in a lifetime (though some religious leaders might tell you otherwise). We discover, grow, learn, screw up, and try again. And in a perfect world, a spiritual journey should be part of that process.

But where do religious leaders belong?

Up front, telling us where to go?

In the back, encouraging us in a more passive role?

Or maybe alongside us, serving more as companions?

Religion is at its healthiest when it can shift back and forth among the three roles. Sometimes we need someone to speak the hard truths, or to share the wisdom that comes from centuries of study, prayer, and wisdom. But there are some things we have to figure out on our own, like a kid who is growing up and leaving home to explore the world.

And sometimes we just need someone to shut up and listen, to be a friend. Someone who, as a fellow human being, can identify with the struggles, doubts, and questions we’re wrestling with.

Too often, though, religious groups become more focused on self-preservation and on maintaining the state of things as they are. While there can be real value in maintaining and sharing tradition, our history and way of doing things too often becomes more like an idol that we preserve and protect at all cost. And sometimes—far too often—maintaining the status quo comes at the cost of people.

Like us, institutions tend to believe they’re right. Why exist otherwise? But religion brings along a certain zeal that comes with ideology. Anything that doesn’t look, act, or believe like the group is seen as other and is therefore a potential threat. If we are right, the rest must be wrong. Consequently, many are pressured to choose either to comply or walk away.

Finally, there is the inevitability that institutions, with the human and material resources they maintain, have remarkable power. With religious groups in particular, they also tend to hold moral sway over followers, and in some cases, they wield the weapon of fear as a tool of influence. They are not to be questioned; they have far-reaching, unchecked power. And where there is such power, there is potential for abuse.

We’ve all seen the scandals that have plagued religious organizations. They consume media cycles with titillating details of affairs, embezzlement, and other salacious tidbits that make for perfect tabloid reading. After all, the only thing we love more than watching someone ascend to greatness in America is watching them fall flat on their faces.

Meanwhile the world stands by, watching this drama play itself out—religious groups turning on each other, tearing themselves apart from the inside. Whether spoken aloud or not, the question lingers:

Why doesn’t religion practice what it preaches?

Those of us in the church are partly to blame for this insanity, though. We don’t want to cause trouble, or we risk losing something if we speak out. In the case of organized religion, we can lose everything, from our social standing and relationships to the prospect of our eternal salvation. So we make small compromises, gradually convincing ourselves that the crap we see right in front of us is true. Or else we learn to put up with it; we justify it and stay silent.

Power is intoxicating, and the lack of accountability makes many groups feel bulletproof. So they stray from the very ideals and principles they’ve preached and claimed for so long. Only now they have so much more to lose. It’s not just their legacy on the line: their very existence is at stake.

To avoid questions and tamp down possible dissent, they baste members in the time-tested juices of doctrine. They offer a powerful, quick-fix dose of certainty. But certainty comes with a price.

You’re either with it or against it.

Lines of doctrine are drawn. If you’re inside the circle, you’re welcomed, loved, and accepted. If you’re not, you may as well be dead. Any questions or challenges you may bring up indicate you’re likely straying over the line. So you’re presented with a choice, though it’s really more of an ultimatum: Get with the program or get out.

Religion doesn’t happen in a vacuum, though, especially these days where every moment of every day can—and may—be documented forever on social media. The world watches from beyond the walls, wondering why this group that calls themselves believers seem so out of touch with reality, so disconnected from the values they claim to embrace.

Identity, preservation of the status quo, and tribalism become paramount, far more precious than truth, love, grace, or serving our sisters and brothers. We’re seen for the hypocrites that we are, and our true values—while missed by and large by believers on the inside—are painfully clear to the outside world.

Younger people see this all more easily. They weren’t born into a culture that assumes institutions are trustworthy. From banking scandals to political promises that are inevitably broken, they’re used to institutions acting primarily in their own self-interest. Believers saying one thing but doing another is, sadly, expected by far too many.

Whereas previous generations valued appearance and perfection, younger people tend to seek out authenticity. In a world filled with abstractions and virtual reality, they long to cling to something real. They can tell they’re being fed bullshit better than any generation before them. It’s in their nature to question everything and to approach ideas—especially institutional ones—with skepticism. They won’t accept something simply because they’re told to. Their trust and participation must be earned; they weren’t born into a reality in which being part of a church was a given. One whiff of hypocrisy and they’re gone.

They don’t care about traditional doctrine. They have no interest in signing a faith statement. The very thought of group-think and conformity is stomach-turning.

And yet they—just like the rest of us—have some fundamental longings that drive them. They want to put their hope in something bigger than themselves. They know they’re not perfect, that they screw up, and generally they want to find a way to grow and be better people. And finally, though it’s harder to identify for those who have never been in a worship setting, I believe they long to feel a connection to something spiritual.

And really, isn’t that what being a person of faith is supposed to be about? Maybe it’s time for a reboot. Maybe it’s time for us to get back to basics and simplify religion.

The good news is that this is still possible. Faith and the pursuit of a spiritual community is not a lost cause. But we only have a limited amount of time to catch up to younger generations who are waiting (at least for now) for us to figure it out. It will take some humility on everyone’s part to set aside some things that have become important to us. It will require valuing unity over being right.

As it says in scripture, we may have to lose something to gain far more.

My burden to introduce this concept comes from the situation I see in the world today in the name of religion. There are so many different renditions and characters within these contradicting religious groups, sadly. In the current landscape, you would need to assume there are many paths that lead to eternity.

Which brings up the question, Did a Creator reach out to man and try to make contact? Maybe, right? I, for one, hope that happened.

Did we capture all that interaction precisely?

Has some of that contact been embellished?

Some meaty issues to consider, huh?

I am just trying to take a shot at unifying the situation. I refuse to buy into the current mindset that forces all groups to say, My way is the right way!

Because look where that has taken us.

That’s the aim of this book. I want to help simplify religion. And I believe if we refocus on only three things, we can create enough common ground to allow some real healing, and even growth, to take root.

Hope in a Creator. The question, Where do I/we come from? has occupied humanity since we became self-aware. And while some of us hold onto the notion that we are simply a byproduct of cosmic circumstance, I believe most of us want to embrace the idea that we are beautifully and wonderfully made. And to be made, there must be a Maker. What we call that Maker is less important than the desire to place our hope in that source of all creation.

Need for a Savior. If you’re perfect, you can stop reading this book now, because this book is for those of us with flaws, which is all of us! And while we may feel pretty self-sufficient from day-to-day, I’d wager there isn’t one of us who hasn’t hollered, Help!!! either literally or inside our own heads at one time or another. We can’t do this life thing alone. Sometimes we need to be saved from ourselves. And when we’re our own worst enemy, we long for that saving presence to help make things right again.

Connect to a Holy Spirit. For some, my use of the words Holy Spirit may be a turn-off at first, especially if it brings up old, traumatic memories of being beaten over the head with hateful sermons or by judging Sunday school teachers. But notice I said a Holy Spirit, not the Holy Spirit. Whether you claim the same things as one church or another—or even one religion or another—about what a Holy Spirit is, I believe we all long for a connection to holiness. We’ve all had those moments when we lose ourselves in beauty, or a moment that we know is particularly special, but we can’t exactly name why. And just as quickly as we sense it, it’s gone again. We hunger for that holiness in our daily living, and it’s achieved best when we seek it together.

I’ve met with hundreds of people, both Christians and non-Christians, and you’d be amazed by how many of them are open to this simplifying religion concept. And it’s not that I’m asking everyone to completely abandon whatever they believe or their identity as a part of one faith tradition or another. I’m just asking everyone to consider placing personal beliefs and identity secondary to these three common principles.

Thank God for the open-mindedness of so many younger people today. It’s a trait I’ve found more common than you might believe in my talks with Millennials in particular. They want this, they’ve told me, but they’re not willing to swallow all the other institutional, dogmatic issues we hold too often as a requirement for acceptance. If we hold fast to that kind of thinking, faith will continue to be abandoned by millions.

But if we humble ourselves, if we listen, and if we simplify our religion down to a handful of ideas that nearly anyone can wrap their minds and hearts around, we just might end up with something worth saving.

imgchap1.jpg

1

How Did We Get Here?

Bob was desperate. He was afraid he was losing his son which, ironically, he was. Just not in the way he thought.

You have to help me, Pastor Ed. It’s my son, Bob said as we sipped our coffee in a local breakfast place. I’ve been a men’s ministry lay leader for years, so lots of people call me Pastor Ed, even though I’m just Ed, a palooka from New Jersey trying to figure life out like everyone else. But in my time in ministry, I’ve had this same conversation, or ones all too similar, more times than I can remember. Every time, my heart breaks a little over the lost opportunities I watch slip away right in front of me over something that could easily be avoided.

My wife and I are worried about his faith life. He’s not following the beliefs and teaching we raised him with. I waited quietly, though I could have probably scripted the rest of the conversation myself.

We raised him to follow God and to accept Jesus as his Lord and Savior. We showed him how to hold true to all the things his mom and I believe are so important. But the older he gets, the less he seems to accept what we have taught him.

Things bad on the home front? I asked. His shoulders slumped as he continued.

It’s causing a lot of friction and conflict, for sure, he said. We just want him to have this firm faith foundation, to get back in line with our teaching so we’ll know he’s saved. What do we do? He looked at me with pain in his eyes. How do we fix this?

What have you tried so far, Bob? I asked, though I was afraid I already knew the answer. He went on to explain that he and his wife, like so many other couples I’ve spoken to over the past twenty-five years of ministry, doubled down. He responded to his son’s resistance with force, issuing an ultimatum. He compelled his son to go to church with them, to attend the youth ministry meetings, to say his prayers and sing the songs that, they hoped against all hope, would bring him around to the salvation they feared he lacked. But all this was only pushing him further away.

I lowered my head, trying to suppress the tears welling up inside me. As often as I had seen this play out, it was never easy to hear. How, I wondered, did something like religion—which should be a source of unity and community strength—drive so many loved ones apart? Where did we go wrong?

Prior generations, from the Baby Boomers on back, tended to accept things like religious doctrine at face value. Religion was something to be followed,